


Journey to Ascension

by AlltheWorldsaStory



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Friendship, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spoilers, The Force
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2019-07-17 21:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 81,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16104608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlltheWorldsaStory/pseuds/AlltheWorldsaStory
Summary: The Sith Empire has returned, bringing war as it seeks retribution for the wrongs of millennia past. Born into an ancient clan as the flames of violence rage in a galaxy divided between darkness and light, Aindri Hallow knew she was to follow the path of her ancestors and become Sith, a weapon to protect the Empire and destroy the Republic and Jedi once and for all. But as she fights the Empire's enemies, those within and without, across the galaxy, she ascends to become something more.Journey to Ascension is an adaptation of the Sith Warrior storyline and beyond, so all rights belong to Bioware and Lucas Arts and I don't own anything from the SW universe.





	1. Buried in Rusting Sands

Swirling blue-white light cast a spectral glow on the viewport, mass-shadows disrupting the ever-dancing patterns. Captain Adasi Nirim absently watched the daggered bow of _Sadow’s Revenge_ knife through hyperspace, revelling in the thrum of the dreadnaught’s engines vibrating the deck beneath his feet. The whole the galaxy was spread out before him.

“Sir,” Called an ensign from a bridge console, “We are approaching the Horuset System.”

“Prepare to exit hyperspace,” Commanded Admiral Stoneridge.

The crew reacted instantly, movements practised to the point of robotism, lending to the soulless mechanical atmosphere the Imperial Navy was infamous for. Thick metal shuddered as the hyperdrive deactivated within seconds of instruction, imperial efficiency at its finest.

“Emerging from hyperspace now.”

Space contracted, thin columns replacing the solid tunnel, starlines shortened and condensed. They became the familiar endless sheet of tiny luminous orbs scattered over realspace’s vast expanse of. There looming ahead was their destination, thin patchwork clouds showcasing the bright red sands.

The systems only planet, the ancient world, Korriban.

A small orbital station bathed in its orange glow, _Harrower_ -class dreadnaughts drifting lazily through the planet’s exosphere. Starfighters danced hypnotically across open space, casting dark specks on the moons hanging beyond Korriban’s curvature.

Something about the world drew one in and despite all the self-discipline drilled into him, it took physical effort for Adasi to tear his eyes away when Stoneridge began barking orders.

“Ensign, have PL-1 Starin prepare a TTS-08 shuttle for the flight down to Korriban,” The admiral ordered and Adasi straightened when his superior addressed him, “Captain, retrieve our honoured guest and escort them to the hanger.”

Quashing a grimace, Adasi saluted nonetheless and walked briskly from the bridge.

Unease pooled in his stomach as the turbolift descended to a habitation decks, disgorging him into the area housing the private quarters. Typically, they were used by the ship’s executive officers, but one had been vacated to make room for who they were delivering.

The captain was just happy it hadn’t been his own he had to give up.

He raised his hand but paused halfway, hairs standing on end the captain felt distinctly like he was being watched, only it disappeared and left him to shake himself out of his stupor.

However, before he could knock, the door slid open with a whispered hiss.

A soft voice called from within, “Enter.”

Discomfort returned with an additional shiver of fear dancing along Adasi’s spine, Emperor, he truly disliked Sith. He dislodged the dangerous thought with a shake and rough swallow to force away his nerves, stilling his fast beating heart.

Standing at attention in the entryway, he was surprised when faced with the occupant.

He would confess his surprise when he was told they’d be taking a Sith hopeful to Korriban with the usual troop contingent. Not the transport of a hopeful itself as doing so was done regularly but rather the timing for it was too late, or too early, to begin their trial period.

Still he wasn’t to question the Sith’s way of doing things, so Adasi accepted it and moved on.

Adasi would also confess to expecting a hulking brute; but it was a young woman, smooth brown skin unmarred by the ravages of age. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, dark red bangs shadowing closed eyes, she painted a picture atypical for a Sith, one of calm serenity.

Yet, he felt like he was trapped in a cage with an apex predator, his hindbrain screaming danger. An aura of strength which went beyond physical appearances. Her peaceful demeanour akin to peace before a storm, which threatened to destroy anything in its path.

An incomplete Atorian puzzle cube rotated slowly in mid-air, pieces floating around it.

He had seen the Sith use the Force before, mostly as a means of punishment or dominating enemies, one did not become a Captain without brushing against one or two of the Order. But he still found himself entranced as the last of the puzzle pieces slotted lazily into place.

At some point, the Sith opened her eyes and regarded him with quizzical tilt of her head.

“A-apologies, my Lord,” Adasi stuttered, cursing himself for his staring, others had been punished for less. He moved his gaze above her shoulder and breathed deeply for a measure of calm, “We have arrived in the Horuset System. A shuttle is ready to take you planetside.”

The Sith hummed, “Good. I will be ready in a moment.”

Giving a short bow, Adasi hurried from the room, posting himself outside the door.

Reigning in her amusement towards the captain’s reaction, Aindri Hallow stood from the bed, leaving the puzzle to float as she stretched her muscles, joints popping satisfyingly.

She had taken little in terms of belongings with her for the trip, so it only did take a moment to prepare. Pulling on black boots which lay discarded on the floor, slipping on a grey outer tunic resting over the back of the cabins chair, Aindri clipped the training saber to her belt.

When Aindri exited, the captain, who had been shift foot-to-foot, snapped to attention but the man’s edginess pulsed in the Force as was it physically evidenced by his coiled muscles.

It was no surprise, she mused, when someone did not act as your assumptions dictated it left you unbalanced. Unbalance turned to fear, fear to anger, anger to violence. Her outward stoicism regarding annoyances had drawn such reactions in the past.

Any emotion could be misconstrued as weakness, being difficult to read was an advantage.

Being pleasantly polite no matter how unpleasant the person was a mannerism she adopted from her uncle. It infuriated most who tried to challenge him. It gave them little of even the smallest openings to use against him and observing their reactions was very entertaining.

So, it was not long before she embraced the tactic and it proved useful in wrongfooting opponents who were ill prepared for when she did react, mercilessly and with no warning.

The captain did not disappoint, jumping at the sound of the puzzle cube hitting her palm, her lips curling into a sly smile. By the time he caught his wits, the officer had to jog to catch her, long strides eating up the distance between the borrowed quarters and the turbolift.

“I did not catch your name, Captain.”

Blinking at being addressed, it took a moment for him to responded, “Adasi Nirim, my Lord.”

“What is the time planetside, Captain Nirim?”

Caught off guard by the question, Adasi paused and glanced at the young woman warily, at least she was asking after relevant information. Still he hoped the conversation would die naturally once her need for information ran its course.

“Just past noon, my Lord. The shuttle is schedule to arrive thirteen hundred, Horuset time.”

She hummed, the low pleasant sound contrasting the harsh clank of metallic doors. They stepped inside and the lift shuddered before beginning a smooth descent to the hanger.

“And its destination?”

“There is a small port near the academy, my Lord.” Adasi replied, dredging up what he recalled from when the clearance for the landing pad came through, “As I understand it, the port is ordinarily used for the transportation of relics offworld.”

The Sith threw a glance and nodded in what he thought was satisfaction before falling silent.

He thanked his luck he was not chaperoning one of those Sith who prattled on an inane whim. They were some of the worst and most troublesome to deal with, officers expected to listen and respond in a boot-licking capacity or risk retirement. It was a pain because in doing so they got nothing done while falling head over heels to accommodate requests.

Adasi had spent most of his career avoiding drawing a Sith’s attention for while securing one’s favour helped assure a high position in the military it also increased chances of death.

There were also much more productive things he could be doing than entertaining a Sith’s need for idle chatter. His mind turned to the stack of paperwork awaiting him back in his own quarters which had no doubt grown since last time. Really, he didn’t understand why he had to escort the Sith rather than a lieutenant or an ensign who’d be just as qualified.

Stuffing down his frustration and oncoming headache at just the idea of administrative work, Adasi let the Sith to exit first as the lift disgorged them into the busy hanger. A large military shuttle awaited at the far end and he winced upon seeing the platoon of troops.

They milled in loose groups around the shuttlecraft, talking with each other or checking their gear as they waited to board and travel to the planet. He gave them a baleful look; they hardly demonstrated the strict discipline their military was renowned for.

Turning to the Sith, he hid a grimace at her critical expression as she watched the soldiers and began leading her to the small two passenger shuttle parked in the right of the hanger.

“Please forgive their lack of discipline, my Lord.” Breathed Adasi in a slow measured breath, the soldiers should know better, the Sith took very seriously the security of the ancient world, “I will make sure they are reminded of the expectations within the Imperial Military.”

“I am sure you will,” Aindri replied evenly, “Though there is nothing for me to forgive. I am after all, even yet to be an Acolyte, and it is therefore hardly my place to command them,”

“I am sure you will,” The Sith replied evenly, “Though there is nothing to forgive. I am not yet even an Acolyte and it is therefore hardly my place to whine about military operations,” She said in dismissal of his apologies, “Nor I am an entitled enough brat to throw a temper tantrum if you do not drop everything to accommodate me. Unlike some others.”

Adasi stopped “No, my Lord, I….”

Her gaze was pointed, “When speaking with me, Captain, you will be honest. I detest liars.”

“Yes,” He swallowed, “Of course, my Lord. You have my utmost apologies.”

A beat of silence followed before she inclined her head in acknowledgement and continued towards the shuttle. It left him to breathe a sigh of relief he hadn’t even been aware he was holding. Her pace was much more sedated so Adasi didn’t have to be seen running, sedated but no less confident, fully in control of herself, the situation and her surroundings.

Slapping feet reached his ears, Ensign Kanra, the shuttles pilot, excusing herself from a conversation with a member of the maintenance personal. She weaved expertly through the technicians and fuel lines towards them, saluting him and bowing to the Sith.

“My Lord, I am the pilot who is taking you down to Korriban Arrival Port.”

Accepting Kanra’s greeting, the Sith did something neither expected, “You have my thanks.”

Kanra blinked in surprise and Adasi was sure he had misheard, never had he seen a Sith thank anyone. Kanra recovered first, but then she had less experience dealing with Sith and so she had little idea of how unusual it was.

“No thanks necessary, my Lord!” Said Kanra, the standard imperial mask of respectful politeness broken by a proud grin, “It’s an honour to serve the Sith.” She bowed deeply, taking a moment to compose herself, “If you would excuse me, my Lord, I’m going to conduct the final checks.”

Lips curled up into a small smile, the Sith nodded in dismissal and Kanra bowed again before spinning on her heel and dashing for the shuttle, the happy grin still on her face. The Sith watched the young pilot, smile stilling playing on her lips in way which seemed almost fond.

“Such eagerness is refreshing.”

“Kanra is the crews youngest. This is her first posting, she’s yet to lose her childhood awe.”

Smile slipping from her lips, Aindri returned to her usual stoic façade as she considered the girls soon to be lost innocence. Their forces being what they were, still yet to recover from the war, many of the current wave of new military personnel had their training rushed.

Many were posted before they were ready and soon eagerness would be replaced by wariness. Kanra’s youthful energy would fade until she was but a shell of the cheerful girl she once was.

Ridding herself of morose thoughts, Aindri slid her gaze to Adasi, “You may leave, Captain. I know you find babysitting me a waste of time and are eager to get back to your post.”

Adasi started, his mind working overtime to figure out when and what exactly gave his thoughts away. For even though he didn’t say to be an expert, he knew how to bury such feelings deep in his psyche. He was pretty sure his mask hadn’t slipped even once.

“Err… yes. I mean no. I mean,” Coughing into the collar of his uniform, Adasi managed to bring his panic under enough control to push deep into his mind, “Thank you, my Lord.”

Bowing, he turned swiftly on his heel and hurried out of the hanger as fast as he could without appearing rude. Their rotation at Korriban had only just begun and already he hoped it be ending and _Sadow’s Revenge_ would be returning to the edges of Sith space were bouts against the Republic and pirates were frequent, preferably soon.

Alone, Aindri found her gaze drifting to the hanger doors and the orange edge of the Korribanian horizon peeking out over the dark metal. Above the planet stood a great Imperial fleet, ready to defend the ancient world in case of an invasion.

The original homeworld of the Sith and their Empire, a sacred place in their history.

Truly she doubted her time on the planet would do anything more than sharpen her already incisive claws. All those hard years of studying under her uncle, whom she affectionately and in irritation referred to as _‘Ari_ would always take partial credit for her success.

However, there had been a moment in her life where Aindri was resigned to the despairing thought she would never set foot on the ancient red sands and explore its excavated tombs.

The world her own clan like many others could trace their long and storied history back to.

But she was going to Korriban, to the Sith Academy, and brought to face her Sith Trials no less on the personal request of an Overseer there, requested by name. She could almost imagine the smug and proud expression on her little brother’s face.

Her brother was once of the few people in her childhood who had always believed in her, she could the ‘I told you so’ echoing in her mind though he was long since dead. Even when Aindri still hadn’t exhibited any Force-Sensitivity, according to him, she was always meant to be something great, something more.

She had merely shaken her head and went right back to working on her combat drills.

Pushing away the memory, Aindri strode up the shuttle ramp where the escorting trooper stood at attention such was custom when one wanted to land near the Academy. The Empire had only recently regained Korriban early in the Great Galactic War, they were not to lose the planet again. Security in getting to and from the planet reflected that concern.

The cabins interior was dim, faint reddish hue doing little to hold back the darkness, leaving everything cast in constantly shifting shadows. No matter which seat she took Aindri would be half in the gloom, so she sat and let her eyes slip shut.

From somewhere up in the shuttle’s cockpit, Aindri could her Kanra’s voice addressing the command centre in the orbital station giving them her clearance to land on the planet.

Her senses sharpened through her communion with the Force were yet to fade and she could hear even the quietest sounds. See the minutest of details, detect the faintest of scents and tastes, feel the gentlest of touches.

 _“Permission granted TTS-08,”_ Came the reply, the voice on the other end tiny and muffled by static. The ramp rose and slammed shut, sealing occupants within, _“Descend on designated flight path. You’re cleared for the Arrival Port.”_

Still, the enhanced senses did have their downsides and Aindri clamped down a wince when engines roared loudly to life until dying down to a loud if gentle hum. The black metal deck shivered and vibrated beneath her feet, the shuttle bouncing from turbulence by way of thermal winds.

Refocusing her mind, Aindri submerged herself back into the Force, instantly taking notice of the ancient darkness suffusing the very atmosphere of the planet below. So steeped in the Force was the orange ball of a world, she had felt the planet before they exited hyperspace.

A dry static-y feeling seemed to hang across space around the world, playing across her skin.

The place resonated with power, Aindri could feel it all around her, a ripple in the Force which gently probed her mind. It popped and fizzled, oscillating in turbulent drifts, charged and ominous. She lowered her shields, crafted delicately over time and with care, just enough to allow the darkness access but with a warning to not take advantage.

For the Force on Korriban was alive in a way it was on very few other planets.

Planets strong in the Force developed, well, she wouldn’t go as far as to call it sentience, but perhaps awareness and certainly they had a far greater presence than your average planet.

Something which drew others in as it also scared them away.

It was why many galactic events occurred or were centred around them. The Republic choose Coruscant as its capital not simply because it was a Core world of which they had their pick to choose from. Out of thousands of planets Tython was where Force-Sensitive species from across the galaxy travelled and Korriban where the Jedi Exiles landed.

Images flashed through her mind, like the grains of an hourglass: vast stretches of red sand, towering cliffs, crumbling tombs walls etched with ancient Sith markings. The image and roar of a hulking, monster of a beast. As soon as they appeared, they disappeared but she knew what it was, the darkness accepting and playfully challenging her to give it her best.

Engines roared, breaking the shuttle’s forward momentum, slanting as the nose rose up then levelled out, jolting as it landed then settling. Hydraulics hissed sharply as the cabins pressure seal broke, sunlight streaming into the interior once the ramp thudded down.

A static crackle as the intercom came to life, _“My Lord, you are clear to disembark.”_

Aindri rose and made her way down the ramp, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the baleful glare of Horuset lighting Korriban’s burnt orange sky. Grey eyes examined her surroundings, assessing the dark brownish red rock of the valley walls hemming in a modest docking outpost. The landing pad, a stark gun metal, stood out sharply against the backdrop.

A few others jutted out over the canyon, deserted but for a few maintenance droids.

A statue of the Emperor, flanked by crimson imperial banners, stood tall and proud against a durasteel building at the catwalk’s end. She noted the artillery adorning its roof, installed in the aftermath of reclaiming Korriban from the Republic.

They were aimed skyward in a menacing display of strength, serving to protect what remained of the destruction wrought on the planet during the war three millennia ago.

Impressive to be sure, barren compared to Dromund Kass but better than Ziost at least.

Glancing over her shoulder, she gave her escort and Kanra a dismissive nod and the two bowed before returning to the shuttle. Her strides were steady and unhurried, the person standing in the shade of the port could wait for her. They were the ones who wanted her there ahead of schedule.

The man was, in a word, weathered and past middle age; leathery dark skin, scarred navy battle armour and close-cropped hair greying and wiry. Aindri recognised him from around the clan estate on Ziost, had questioned his presence. He wasn’t of the branch family; her father had seen to that when taking over the clan.

It put her on edge, anyone linked to her parents, even only by tentative association was to be kept an eye on. When he contacted _‘Ari_ in the weeks after the clan gathering, Aindri had her answer; it seemed he had been looking for potential acolytes.

Of course, the Overseer had power, no Sith could live long when lacking in strength, but it wasn’t much and probably received most it through others. Whether he received from those who birthed her remained to be seen. She would keep her opinion of him tentative in any case, first impressions while useful could be misconstrued.

Tremel examined his new charge, eyes drawn briefly to the dark red her denoting her pureblood ancestry. She moved seemingly at ease, lazy and relaxed, but he could see the power belied by her lithe frame. The Force wrapped her like a cloak, darkness caressing her skin akin to a mother welcoming her young child home after a particularly gruelling day.

Confident in how she stood, nothing able touch her, posture straight, presence unwavering.

“At last you’ve arrived. Good.” He pushed himself from the doorway, slipping into his role as she stopped before him, “There is much to do and every moment is critical,” He clasped his hands behind him, “As you know, I am Overseer Tremel. For decades I’ve administered the trials that prove who is and who is not worthy to join the Sith Order. They are a chance to weed out the week. Those who face them either survive and become Sith or die.”

Aindri regarded him with a calculating expression; acolytes could spend years on Korriban without even contemplating the Trials. Never mind one could say she was already trained, needing only to be tempered in Korriban’s fires. She didn’t mind being pulled from the pool early but starting her trials the moment, she arrived suggested something else was at play.

Whatever it was, however, there was no doubt in Aindri’s mind, “I will be Sith.”

“That remains to be seen, _Acolyte_ ,” Tremel replied, emphasising the word, “You are here ahead of schedule because of me.” He fixed her with a sharp look, “I expect you to obey.”

It was hard to hold back a derisive snort, demands of obedience was obvious. Most who had yet to gain the necessary connections to affect defiance without the world crashing on their heads gave it. But one should not be complacent, there were always serpents hidden in the grass and an acolyte’s ambition was yet to be moderated by knowing when to pick a fight.

“You face your trials, you serve me, and I will make you the most powerful acolyte here.”

She remained silent, wondering whether it was within Tremel’s ability to promise such a thing. Somehow, Aindri doubted. There was no question he wanted her for something, why else would he dangle such a thing in front of her, as if she needed an incentive to succeed.

“We shall see, Tremel.” She replied, intentionally using the Overseer’s name not title.

Even on Korriban there were forms and etiquette you might hide behind, paying lip service until it is no longer needed; but Aindri did not want to hide, she wanted to test the waters.

She would not rise to Tremel’s bait until she knew into what waters she’d been tossed.

Tremel felt a slight grin creep onto his face at the subtle jab; already she was showing her intelligence, good. It was a skill not everyone possessed, knowing how to judge weak points and push buttons but Aindri Hallow was already testing him and his boundaries.

Indeed, there was far more to this one than any other Tremel had come across. Talent and strength in the force alone did not make a good Sith. There had to be intelligence, ingenuity, and a level of maturity. He could already see past her calm exterior to what was beneath, a very dangerous woman with a sharp of mind, and strong of will.

She was the one he had been searching for, of this he truly had no doubt.

“Leave any doubts at the door. There is no room for them,” He answered back, eyes locking on hers, “The trials are difficult enough. But they are hardly the greatest threat you face.”

Yes, the worst she could face on Korriban was death, death an integral part of the tomb filled world, walking the surface every moment of every day but such was known to all who came to the planet. That Tremel called attention to this threat especially meant he was not alluding to death and it was here Aindri found her interest piqued, brow arching in question.

“There’s an acolyte here named Vemrin,” Continued Tremel, face twisting into a sneer before smoothing out, “He is your enemy and will try to kill you. We must prepare you.”

A pissing contest between rival Overseers, it made Aindri want to roll her eyes. While there was certain wisdom to Korribanian affairs in how they fostered strength, the system was still a wasteful one. There were different kinds of strength and those who did not fit the casted, orthodox mould failed because they were unable to capitalise on their unique strengths.

Not that it mattered for her, _‘Ari_ made sure she was well prepared, and she would do his tutelage justice by coming out of the experience and Korriban stronger, for herself as well.

“Rest easy, Overseer, I will destroy him.”

Tremel had waited for young Hallow’s reaction and he wasn’t disappointed. Her voice, while betraying little emotion held enough of an edge, he felt his neck hairs stand on their ends.

“With my guidance, someday you will destroy all your enemies,” He smiled knowingly, before glancing at the vibrosword strapped to her waist with disdain, “That practice sword is insufficient, the blade of lesser acolytes. You need a more dominating weapon.”

Aindri shared his distain for the weapon at her hip; it felt alien, a far cry from even the practice saber she used at home, a practice _‘Ari_ picked up from the Jedi. A lightsaber’s blade was weightless and had a strong gyroscopic effect, any attempt to use one without training with something similar was liable to result in loss of limb as he explained.

The vibrosword was more for show than function and Tremel was correct in a good blade could make all the difference in a fight between people of equal skill or battle experience.

“In the tomb of Ajunta Pall, there is an old armoury. A strong Sith warblade awaits you there. The tomb is thick with K’lor’slugs, deadly, savage creatures. Be speedy but careful, they have been the end of many an acolyte.”

She would like to see the beasts try; she would not hesitate to them their heads if they lacked the instinct to avoid her. Aindri already looked forward to Korriban’s supposed horrors and hoped they would provide her with a challenge, even if only slight.

“Once you acquire the warblade, I suggest you spend time in the tomb bloodying it,” Tremel advised and she would, if for no other reason than to acclimatise herself to the blade, “Then find me in my chambers at the academy.”

Bowing her head, Aindri waited until Tremel had disappeared from her sight and her senses before casting her gaze back to the catwalk and the horizon, a breeze ruffling crimson locks.

In the distance, low orbiting dreadnaughts crawled lazily across the sky, one crossing one of Korriban’s many moons which hung visible in the atmosphere. Gigantic monolithic statues of bowed slaves stood in eternal vigil over the Valley of the Sleeping Kings. Rusty mountain mesas, like the ones ringing the valley, climbed high into the sky.

Tremel had a purpose and a plan in bringing her to Korriban early. She had become a pawn in an invisible game between him and an invisible opponent with an unknown number of pieces of undetermined roles in the player’s schemes.

But while disliking having to dance to a puppeteer’s invisible strings, it would not stop her becoming Sith. It could in fact work in her favour, biding her time until she could free herself of whatever scheme, taking all the knowledge and training. Growing stronger and breaking her chains, building herself up from one teacher to the next until outgrowing them all.

She worked too hard to get where she was and Aindri didn’t plan on dying on Korriban, not when she knew it was only the first step. Not because of some power play between invisible players. No, she would not die, rather she would survive and thrive. Aindri breathed deeply, savouring the taste of air of the ancient Sith homeworld before moving; time to get to work.

* * *

 

A flash of whistling metal was followed by the high-pitched squeal of a dying K’lor’slug, green ichor spraying hard packed sand as an overhead blow bisected the beast. Aindri wrinkled her nose at the stench, stepping back as fetid blood seeped through fine grains coloured red by those who had fallen in the relentless and cruel climb to power.

She had remained splatter free thus far and wanted to keep it that way.

Flicking away the blood, Aindri surveyed the mortuary courtyard she was cutting through to access to the Tomb of Ajunta Pall. K’lor’slugs skittered across the sands, vermicular bodies propelling them undulating towards acolytes. Maws filled with endless rows of antipodally rotating teeth threatened to tear the careless limb from limb and devour them whole.

Savage worm-like creatures, they infested the Valley of the Dark Lords a place only those immediately associated with the Sith Academy dared to tread let along frequent. Ought to have been gutted and pillaged long ago, acolytes were still sent to seek lost Sith treasures.

Marka Ragnos, Naga Sadow, her own target Ajunta Pall, luminaries of the Sith Order.

Aindri was somewhat surprised there were still relics and secrets yet to be rooted out, the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge relentless in their missions to uncover ancient Sith artefacts.

Like she said, gutted and pillaged long ago.

Driven by the smell of blood and dying shriek of their brethren, a group of K’lor’slugs slithered towards her. Jumping over the swipe of a talon, Aindri landed in a crouch in the group’s middle. Spinning as she rose, her blade sliced through the creature’s tough skin in a single motion.

Nasty as they were and dangerous for the unprepared and unwary, the K’lor’slugs weren’t as menacing as Tremel made them out to be. They were a warm-up, something to get a would-be Sith’s feet wet before their true trial. It was wasted on Aindri, her training not just limited to the training room or even Dromund Kass.

She had been taken by _’Ari_ to defeat beasts native to a variety of environments.

**Some things can only be learned through first-hand experience, Woyunks, not training.**

Or so he would say.

Another slug slinked towards her and she finished it with a forward thrust of her blade, stabbing low and sweeping upwards to cut through the creature’s torso and maw. Aindri raised the vibrosword to slaughter another only to duck when the Force whispered in warning and she heard a familiar crackle behind her.

A bolt of purple lightning arched over her head, a K’lor’slug falling into convulsions.

Spinning, Aindri brought her blade to rest at the neck of her attacker, blinking at the being, her assailant a red-skinned Twi’lek with black tribal markings tattooed along her lekku. A vibrosword was slung across her back, held by a leather strap cutting across a long purple tunic which like the black leggings hugged the curves of her figure.

The newcomer was strong in the Force that much was obvious at a glance, sparks dancing around raised slender fingertips. Almond eyes examined her with an intelligent and calculating gaze, lips curled into an enigmatic smile despite the danger. Aindri would survive being electrocuted, the Twi’lek would not survive her throat being slit.

Ever since she awakened, Aindri had displayed an affinity for sensing through the Force, whether it be impending danger, emotions or the presence of others, it whispered to her.

The Twi’lek’s emotions ran strong and the Force coiled sensuous around her frame, coaxing and ensnaring the senses of anyone man or woman who ventured too close to her web. She was a woman who promised equal parts pain and pleasure in return for the darkest secrets.

Eyes shifted from calculation to boredom, the Twi’lek inspected her finger nails, “What?”

Withdrawing her perceptions, Aindri arched a brow at the other acolyte’s flippancy considering the blade still at her throat. By removing her hand, the Twi’lek withdrew her biggest threat and she doubted the Twi’lek would draw her own weapon quick enough to prevent her death.

“You are non-human.”

It was rare after all for an individual not of human blood or that of the Sith species to attend the Academy on Korriban. Unsurprising, given the Empire’s xenocentrism and the Sith Order’s own obsession with maintaining purity and tradition.

“How observant,” The Twi’lek replied in a lazy drawl though her eyes gained a sharper glint when she looked up at her, “The Academy, as I am constantly told, is getting desperate.”

Her smile twisted into one of bitter amusement at her own words like she was commenting on an inside joke. Throwing a brief glance at the blade at her throat, the Twi’lek returned to her nails.

“Now, are you going to put your blade down?”

Aindri tilted her head at the Twi’lek’s request, “After you tried to kill me?”

“Consider it a professional curtsey,” She countered, “And I failed, didn’t I? You’ll be ready for me this time.” The other shrugged, “There’s no point in trying again so soon.”

She retained her stance with narrowed eyes for a second before snorting and stepping back.

“Why thank you,” The Twi’lek continued in the same drawling quality and tilted her head towards the dark and crumbling tomb entrance with an arched brow, “Care to join me in the tomb? From what I’ve seen, you’ll clearly need help if you’re going to pass whatever trial you’ve been given any time this century.” When Aindri didn’t respond with anything other than silence the Twi’lek shrugged elegantly before brushing past her, “Suit yourself.”

Watching the Twi’lek strolling towards the tomb with an assessing gaze, Aindri knew she was being provoked on purpose. It was a clever ploy, goading someone into fighting most of the enemy in order to prove their superiority and the Twi’lek would coast through the tomb.

“I will not be manipulated into fighting in your place.”

The other acolyte stopped, looking at her with a new measure of respect, “You’re smarter than I gave your credit for. Smarter than the usual brutes at least.” The Twi’lek smirked and sauntered into the tomb with a wave, “See you on the other side then. If you survive.”

Clicking her tongue, Aindri lashed out with her saber, spinning it into a reverse grip and thrusting backwards to impale the K’lor’slug attempting to sneak up on her from behind.

The creature emitted a high-pitched screech as she yanked the blade from its torso.

She descended into the tomb’s depths, running her hand along roughhewn walls as her feet tread worn stone steps. At the bottom, Aindri stood under an archway which opened onto an expansive chamber ravaged by time.

Spidery cracks covered walls and broken statues, chipped urns lining the walls. Crumbling piles of rock littered the floor from cracks and gaping holes in the ceiling where masonry had come loose.

In the wide opening beyond the stairs was a makeshift barricade, crates stacked one atop another, separating the space from the rest of the chamber and its occupants. Taking shelter behind the checkpoint was what remained of a squad, only one still standing and unleashing quick bursts of blaster fire when an overly inquisitive K’lor’slug drew too close.

The rest were either leaning or sitting against the crates, bleeding heavily it took only one look to know they were at their limit and would die soon if they did not receive medical attention. She approached the still standing man, stripes on his uniform identifying him as the squad’s superior officer who kept to his military discipline.

“What is the situation, Sergeant?”

Startled, the man swung, but quickly lowered his rifle at seeing her, “Apologies, my Lord, I didn’t see you enter.” He saluted, relaxing at her acknowledgement, “Sergeant Cormun, Fifth Infantry Company, Korriban regiment, commanding a hard target mission to eradicate the K’lor’slugs in this tomb.” Cormun shuddered, fear beating in the Force, “I’ve lost three squads of good men fighting them. They come in packs. They’ll just... swallow men whole.”

Aindri was not surprised they were having difficulty given how many of the beasts there were; she personally would target the egg chambers to stop them breeding. The soldiers would still have to deal with the rest but would find it easier to stem the plague which had evidently grown out of hand if the Dark Council held it necessary to send squads.

“Your strategy?”

“We’ve been given the green light to use explosives to destroy the K’lor’slug nest since they will likely abandon the tomb once it’s destroyed,” Cormun reported, indicating to a door at the nearest end of the chamber, “We managed to get them to the egg chambers but the K’lor’slugs were all over us before we could detonate the explosives.”

So, the sergeant had the same idea, Aindri nodded before unsheathing her vibrosword and approached the makeshift barrier. With no troops to aid him, Cormun would be unlikely to finish his mission before death and so it fell to her.

“Hold this position. I will handle the explosives.”

Vaulting over the crates without awaiting an answer, Aindri impaled the nearest K’lor’slug with a Force aided leap, thrusting out her free hand and enclosing her fist. The beast which had been thrashing in the invisible grip exploded, thick clumps of blood oozed to the floor, crushed organs and flesh landing with a squelching thud.

Aindri wasn’t prone to big displays of the Force, it gave her a hidden card if people believed she didn’t have an overly large affinity for active use, despite being very capable of it. That day though, that day she felt like showing off a bit.

Carving her way through the K’lor’slugs, the creatures grew increasingly aggressive when she ducked through an archway into the corridor shown to her by the sergeant. The floor grew slick with the creature’s blood, making it harder for Aindri to keep her footing, slipping once or twice.

She soon came upon a chamber with a mouth marked by a luminescent glow. She could sense it, just barely given its nascence, the presence of life a low hum in the back of her mind, a shiver in the air around her. Hundreds of eggs pulsated with light making the metal of the planted explosives glean a pale sickly green.

One K’lor’slug stood guard, much larger than the others and likely stronger as well. She had done her research upon being called to Korriban, Aindri knew they could spit a sort of acid.

Twirling the vibrosword once in her hand, she leapt towards the beast and brought her blade smashing down onto the creature’s crown, but the tougher hide meant she only scored a small cut. Aindri had to jump back to avoid a swinging talon, before she lunged forward, stamping her foot to add extra power to her thrust.

With the force concentrated on a single point, the blade sunk into the creature’s skin, piercing its stomach, blood and gastric acid spilling on the floor. She withdrew the blade quickly so the acid wouldn’t eat away the metal and dealt a fatal blow with a slash just below its maw.

Stepping over the corpse, Aindri swept the room, catching glints of durasteel from amongst the remains of what had to be the sergeant’s men. Sheathing her blade, she picked up the pieces lip curling at the smell as she held them.

Once she retrieved the items, Aindri primed the explosives, sprinting and ducking behind the doorway in time for them to detonate behind her. When the tremors settled, she removed her hands which she’d clapped over her ears to block out the noise and twisted to peer back into the chamber.

The explosion had sent charred pieces of infant K’lor’slug’s and egg shells splattering across the floor and walls, a small shower of dust and pebbles raining down from the ceiling. She wasted no time in returning to the main chamber, Aindri had something for the sergeant.

“From the explosion I take it you were successful in clearing the egg chambers?” Cormun asked hopefully at her approach, letting out of relieved breath when she nodded in confirmation, “You have my utmost thanks, my Lord.”

Aindri observed the exhausted soldiers, two had died in the time she was gone, “Your mission has been completed, Sergeant. Retreat and return to the garrison. Get your people the medical attention they need.” She held out the dog tags she’d collected from gnawed bones, “And your soldier’s families will want these returned to them.”

Cormun stared and when he realised what the Sith acolyte was holding, had to blink away unshed tears. He bowed deeply in gratitude to the young woman as he took them. That a Sith even bothered to retrieve them was a commendation of his men’s efforts and gained the acolyte his respect.

“Thank you, my Lord,” Cormun replied, staring emptily at the blood-soaked tags and sighed sadly, “They were good men and woman, they deserved better than to be torn to shreds by a pack of beasts.”

“Their deaths were in service to the Empire. To the Sith,” She replied, bowing her head in silent condolement for those who had been slain, “There is no greater honour, Sergeant.”

“You’re right, my Lord,” Cormun agreed with a small smile, his grip on the tags tightening he looked at the remnants of his squad with teeth gritted in determination and stood, “Their families will be proud. Me and the survivors will vacate the area and return to the barracks, my Lord.” He saluted her, “I’d say good luck, but I don’t think you’ll need. It’s no wonder, Overseer Tremel, brought you in special.”

Leaving Sergeant Cormun and his men to head deeper into the darkness, Aindri turned over the new piece of information in her mind. It seemed news of her arrival had spread fast, or at the least her sudden mid-year enrolment at the Academy was common knowledge. Tremel had certainly failed to keep her presence a secret.

Oh well, Aindri rolled her shoulders, her blade which rose and fell in bewildering patterns as she cut through groups of slugs, she didn’t truly expect to remain so for long. Being required to move in the shadows would restrict her movements and she much preferred autonomy.

The tide of sluggish creatures eventually slowed and Aindri nudged a carcass with her boot.

It was one of those which was not her doing and therefore evidence of passing acolytes who could swing a blade with some semblance of skill. She was about to move when something about it caught her eye and Aindri squatted to examine the dead beast more closely.

Blaster marks covered the its torso and she knew Cormun and his squad hadn’t come this far into the tomb and Acolytes did not carry blasters. The burns were also inconsistent with ones belonging to Imperial issued weapons. Raising her head, she peered intently into the gloom, the lack of light making it difficult to see beyond a few metres ahead of her.

Standing, Aindri stalked forward, soon hearing the familiar sounds of blaster fire ringing through the chamber ahead. She stopped in the archway and analysed the ongoing melee, tomb raiders clashing with the odd acolyte.It was there she spotted a certain Lethan Twi’lek standing over a human male, lips twisted in a contemptuous smile.

Tormi Matyr disliked raiders, hated them with a passion, and dispatched the human with a particularly potent dose of Force Lightning. She turned slowly on his fellow, savouring the abject terror on his face as he thumbled his blaster. Her hand was raised in a deliberately leisured motion when she heard the tell-tale sound of a blade whistling through the air.

Jumping aside, Tormi avoided the blade which slashed open the raiders throat, sending a fine red mist spurting into the air. She whipped around, both arms raised to release a torrent of Force generated electricity only for it to die when finding herself facing the same human acolyte from aboveground.

She even audaciously mirrored the posture, examining her nails with a bored expression.

A vibrosword was held in a loose, almost lazy grip in the human’s hand, but despite the unguarded stance, there was a certain readiness about her. Tormi doubted she could beat the other in a direct fight, regardless, she could sense that was not the human’s intention.

When she looked there was a single, simple message; now we’re even.

“Tormi Matyar,” Tormi supplied with a grin, one promising murder and mayhem.

The corners of Aindri’s lips curled into voracious smirk, “Aindri Hallow.”

Turning on the tomb raiders, the two acolytes attacked, fighting in tandem as Aindri blocked blaster bolts and the occasional vibrosword. She cut and sliced into the enemies closest to them, spraying the floor and walls with crimson blood. Tormi followed her laughing as she used Force Lightning to strike the raiders further afield.

The ripples through the Force at their deaths felt different from those of K’lor’slugs meeting their demise. Killing sentient beings always resulted in more intense disturbances than taking the life of mindless beasts. Progressing rapidly through the tomb, their clothes thoroughly stained by blood and sticky green ichor by the time they reached its depths.

Coming into one of the few empty chambers, not least because of sprung traps which had impaled the bodies of anyone who ventured into them, Tormi picked at her attire in disdain.

“This has been fun,” Tormi drawled, “But I look forward to chucking these in an incinerator.”

With a sidelong glance, Aindri commented dryly, “Truly? I think it’s an improvement.”

“Shut up.”

Aindri smirked and turned to examine the chamber they were in. Acting as a crossroads of sorts, there was a corridor directly in front and to the left of them whilst to their right was a descending staircase, leading even further into the tomb’s depths. She could sense the presence of a group of people below, one strong in the Force, five weak.

“This is where we must part, I’m afraid,” Tormi sighed dramatically looking at steps and heavy sarcasm laced the Twi’leks voice, “I have a Trial of Philosophy to complete.”

“Spindrall.” Aindri murmured.

The elderly Sith had been at the Academy when _‘Ari_ had been an acolyte decades ago and she knew the Sith was a prophet and counselled acolytes on the Sith Code. But those who were sent to him, were those in danger of being expelled from the Academy. Given her strength in the Force, Aindri doubted the Twi’lek was one such acolyte.

At her look, Tormi snorted, “What can I say? My overseer is an xenocentric chauvinist.”

The other didn’t elaborate as if that explained everything, which when considering the general Sith attitude, Aindri supposed it did. Tilting her head, she gave the Twi’lek a challenging smirk, throwing back what the other said before.

“See you on the other side then. If you survive.”

Eyes glittering, Tormi gave a cunning smile, “Oh, I’ll survive and pass whatever test the hermit gives me. I don’t plan on letting some old geezer preventing me from being Sith.”

With a wave, Tormi disappeared into the depths, leaving Aindri alone once more. Considering the two corridors, she trusted her instincts and the Force to guide her to destination where she needed to be, striding for the left corridor.

Coming upon a staircase delving into the tomb’s shadows, Aindri eyed the ancient Sith script etched into the stone archway, worn away to near illegibility by the passage of time. What words she could see she recognised, two standing out. _Tyûk_ and _Asmenys_. Enough to tell her what awaited at the end of worn steps despite the fragmented writing.

The Armoury.

Unsheathing her vibrosword and holding it ready, Aindri descended the steps, careful of any lose or damp flagstones, guided by a pale orange light from below. Every twenty was a narrow landing, flanked by weathered ancient sarcophagi set against the walls. Open, she could see they housed deactivated droids rather than the typical mortal remains.

Despite their ancient age, scuffed and scratched frames, they looked perfectly operable. No doubt maintained and rebuilt as Aindri could not have been the only one sent to retrieve a blade. The trial was likely standard considering all potential Sith were issued practice swords at the start of training, hardly expected to withstand the trials with such a pathetic weapon.

She arrived in a grand circular chamber littered with masonry, crumbling armour and evenly droids entombed in open sarcophagi. Along the walls sat weapon racks, some spaces empty, blades to which a champion had already laid claim while others held dormant antiquated blades. Some, but not many, were too dull to be of use to anyone seeking to wield them.

No obvious remains, but dark stains and patchy streaks lent weight to Tremel’s words.

Moving to stand in the chamber’s centre, Aindri shut her eyes and opened herself fully to the Force. There was something beyond sight, a distortion in the air around her, a perception like sight. Feeling a weak tug, she turned clockwise until she was facing where the pull felt strongest, resonating with her being.

Grey eyes snapped open and before her was the rack at the back of the chamber, flanked by two statues of bowed slaves. It held three blades of glinting dark metal and when her hand skimmed over them, Aindri stopped over the hilt of the middle blade. Gripping the hilt, she removed it from the rack, eliciting a rasp as it scraped against stone.

Aindri examined her new weapon, a bit rusted but light and razor sharp. Longer than a regular lightsaber, the blade ended in a chiselled tip while the base flared out in a stout guard over the handle. She gave a few experimental swings, growing used to the weight, balance and how it felt in her hand then holding it out in front of her, inhaling, exhaling.

A pale light spilled from the hilt when she thumbed the toggle, coating the blade in a weak crimson glow. A deep baritone hum emanated from the metal; the sound not dissimilar to that of a lightsaber. The dark energy it radiated spoke of power in its own right, but how the warblade would hold against a lightsaber in sustained combat she did not know.

It would, however, make any acolyte think twice about mistaking her as an easy target.

Satisfied the blade was sound and pleased age had not comprised the metals integrity, she passed it to her left hand and unsheathed the vibrosword. About to toss it aside into the rubble, a soft, near silent, whirring sound caught her ear and a glint of metal her eye.

Out of the sarcophagi stepped four droids, each raising a blaster which all four pointed straight at the centre of her chest. It was the trap she’d been waiting for the moment she came down those steps. Deflecting the first bolt of plasma with the practice blade, Aindri attacked the first with a Force aided jump.

Impaling the droid through the chest with a downward strike of her warblade, Aindri span so their positions switched, and it was pierced with blaster bolts from its fellows. Removing her blade, she blocked another bolt with the vibrosword using it to batter aside the blaster as she stepped up and bisected the second droid with a single strike.

The third she destroyed with a scissoring of her blades, sparks flying from exposed wires.

Ducking, blaster fire sailed past her and she flipped her blade into a reserve grip, thrusting back and up, piercing the fourth beneath its chin and into the droid’s processor. Throwing the useless vibrosword aside, broken from the strength behind her previous strikes, Aindri walked back through the armoury and up the stairs.

She laughed freely at the destruction she and her blade created, demolishing the rest of the staggering droids which set the tone for the remainder of her trial. The thrill quickly became replaced by boredom as she settled into the motions of cutting down anything which crossed her path, K’lor’slug or tomb raider with ruthless efficiency.

By the time she was nearing the exit, her bloodlust and largely dissipated and Aindri was quite unsatisfied at the disappointingly easy assignment she’d been given. None of the tomb’s denizens challenged her enough to get creative in her blade work and Tremel would have her believe the K’lor’slugs had been the end of many an acolyte.

“Come on you nerf-herders! The quicker we shift this lot, the quicker we get paid!”

Aindri stopped mid-step, ears perking up at the rough voice and odd, distinctly non-imperial accent, cocking her head as snippets of conversation floated down from above. Five, no six, looters loitered in a chamber and she found the staircase walking around a broken statue.

Stalking up the steps, Aindri stopped short of the archway and watched as the group of tomb raiders manhandled what were expensive Sith relics. She gritted her teeth at the lack of care and respect the looters treated them with.

Narrowing grey eyes, she recalled the bloodstained datapad she’d found in one of the chambers she had passed through and fixed her gaze on the man directing the other raiders. Curling lithe fingers tighter around the hilt, Aindri drew her warblade as she leaped at him.

The raiders watched horrified when her blade split the man’s skull, his blood pooling on the floor as he hit unforgiving ground. Taking advantage of their shock, Aindri attacked the rest, striking those nearest at lightning speed, her blade humming gleefully when it sliced through sentient flesh.

Witnessing the carnage, the few remaining looters dropped their weapons and fled the chamber. Dearly wanting to chase and destroy them for even daring to touch the tombs relics as she was, their safety took priority and Aindri returned her blade, its hunger quenched for the time being, to carefully inspect them for damage.

Breathing a relieved sigh when seeing the relics were in a decent, if bloodstained, condition, Aindri gently packed them in a bag taken from the looters. Hefting it over her shoulder, she proceeded to pick her way carefully way through the rest of the tomb.

Avoiding confrontations as she did so the relics would not get damaged, it took Aindri a good several minutes to make her way through the tombs twists and turns. She found the stairs leading to the surface in due time and return once more to Korriban’s surface, the cooler air a sharp contrast and welcome change to the warm, stale atmosphere of the tomb.

She tipped her head back and breathed deeply, enjoying the sensation of a steady breeze, grains of windblown sand swirling around her feet. A darkening pink streaked sky, star growing in prominence signified the coming of nightfall, but Aindri was unconcerned.

The Sith Academy was near and Aindri smiled at the thought of finally stepping foot onto those hallowed grounds. Of course, glancing at her attire, dusty, bloodied and stained with oil, what she perhaps most anticipated was a shower.

 

 


	2. The Sith Academy

Rising high above the Valley of the Dark Lords, the Sith Academy was impressive and intimidating, mirror smooth black stone stretching over a mile long. Backs of kneeling statues held it aloft, flanking rough-hewn stairs climbing to heavy-set doors. The last rays of setting Horuset casted the shadow of the pyramidal structure across steep valley walls.

A monument to the power of the Dark Side and the might of the Empire, the Sith, it was utterly suited to its role as a dark fortress where acolytes triumphed in their trials or died.

In the twilight hours where day and night chased each other, dancing, few people were outside the Academy. Night’s breath was enveloping the planet, enclosing the diurnal creatures, lulling them to sleep, protecting them from the travellers of the darkness.

Some where soldiers, marching across the sand to and from the entrance as the day shift switched with the night watch and returned to their garrison for rest. A ceremonial changing of the guard given the danger posed by the Academy’s occupants.

One was such soldier was a barrel-chested man with sergeant sitting on a rock in front of the Academy steps, engaging in the mind-numbing process of blaster rifle maintenance.

“Sergeant Rikel?”

“Yes?” He looked up at the sound of her voice, standing and saluting her at her approach, “I see you’ve had a bloodthirsty day in the tomb, my Lord.” Said Rikel, eying her messy attire, “I am at your service. What do you need?”

“I have eliminated the tomb raiders.” She informed him, “Some carried imperial rifles.”

Rikel’s eyes grew distant as he read between the lines, “Then, my men are dead?”

“Be proud, Sergeant,” Said Aindri, letting a touch of gentleness seep into her tone with her next words, “They died protecting the Empire’s history.”

“That they did, my Lord. That they did.” He agreed, nodding to the bag of relics slung over her shoulder, “If I may, you should bring those directly to Lord Graas in the archives. He’s the senior curator and will want to look.”

“A sound idea. Farewell, Sergeant.”

Aindri inhaled deeply, basking in the all-encompassing presence of the Dark Side. It had always been a privilege to face the Sith Trials on Korriban, potential students throughout Imperial space competed for the honour of studying within the Academy’s halls. And she was one of those few, a thought which burned in her mind when she took to the steps.

All the training, all the effort, learning about the Force, the Sith, the military, every cut, scrape and bruise had led up to that moment and she walked slowly, reverently, up those rugged stairs. Passing through enormous doors standing a dozen metres tall, shadows dancing across and already darkened entryway, Aindri entered the Academy.

Korriban’s fading bloody outdoor light gave way to stark gloom, the air even cooler than that of the evening outside. Moister as well, it clung to her skin, coaxing out sweat and leaving Aindri’s face feeling overly warm while the rest of her skin was cold.

It caused goosebumps to rise and left her feeling clammy, musty and somewhat irritable.

The antechamber in which she stood was bisected by a large pillar, a single blood red imperial flag, flanked by twin statues, draped down the middle. The floor flowed around the pillar, flags hanging behind smaller statues grouped in the centre of the opposite wall.

Where the two halves merged was a small corridor, a pair of Imperial Guardsmen, clad head to toe in rich crimson robes, their vibrostaves held at attention. They were like the statues they stood guard between, silent and unmoving, her presence bringing no outward reaction nor deviation from their duties.

But when moving past, Aindri could feel them watching from behind cold durasteel visors.

One day, Aindri would love to be given a chance to go against them in a test of skill. The royal guard were, after all, the elite. Hand selected as the Emperor’s own personal enforcers and protectors, the Imperial Guard were specially trained to take on any and all threats.

The corridor’s low ceiling gave way to a high vaulted one, crimson banners emblazoned with the Empire’s symbol hanging from the rafters. Various corridors lead off the main hall, at the back two curvilinear staircases set opposite each other, offering access to the upper levels.

Vaguely she could hear and sense people moving about, the largest cluster centred in a large room on the second floor. But it was the obelisk standing tall and proud in the centre of the immense room which claimed Aindri’s attention.

Carved into stone were faces of vanquished foes, visages contorted into agonised screams and a red mist seemed to seep from the stone itself, a dark miasma coiling around it. Aindri approached the obelisk, her eyes tracing the lives of archaic Sith symbols etched into the monument’s edges.

_Fear Conquers, fear fuels, fear cripples._

An ancient Sith phrase, subtlety reminding acolytes of the power gained through fear and crushing rivals underfoot, yet also the danger should one allow their fear to control them. It was a useful emotion fear, but only if channelled properly, let fear consume you and you were bound to fall sooner or later.

Brushing off the thought it struck Aindri while Tremel had instructed her to meet him in his chambers, she didn’t know where they were. She could sense him through the Force, but in a building this large with as many residents as it likely had, pinpointing his exact location would be difficult.

Her predicament was answered by the soft slap of feet against stone, a long acolyte walking across the hall, head bent and muttering something murderous to himself. Moving so she was in front of him, Aindri arched a brow when the acolyte stumbled and snapped his head up to shout at her before paling at her stained clothes.

“Overseer Tremel’s chambers?”

The acolyte quickly gave her the right directions before just as quickly excusing himself, leaving Aindri tilting her head in amusement at his retreating back. Following his direction, she travelled through the corridors, taking several turns and passing by one or two other individuals clad in acolyte robes who spared her a brief glance.

Given her state of dress and after Cormun’s revelation in Pall’s tomb she was not surprised.

She disregarded the looks cast by other acolytes who roamed the halls. There were some gazes she felt more keenly, those who’s demeanour and dress gave proof to their importance within the Academy walls. But while their eyes lingered a moment, they gave her little more than a glance.

Turning a corner, unease took root in the Force, a growing chill of malice seeping into the air and her hand drifted to the hilt of her warblade. At the bottom of a small flight of stairs of which Aindri stood at the top, two acolytes awaited her, the pair night and day in appearance and presence in the Force.

On the left, an acolyte tall and muscular, grey outer tunic stretched tightly across his shoulders, a tattoo stripe almost taking up the entirety of his face’s right side. He meant to broadcast a threatening demeanour he was betrayed by the Force which hung lazy and sluggish over his large frame.

In comparison it was the smaller of the two, attire overall darker and more armoured than his counterpart, which sent her instincts flaring. Tightly contained violence roiled below the surface and the Force snapped and tumbled around him. He was the more powerful, the bigger threat of the two, position as alpha predator confirmed by the warblade he carried.

Since she only had one name for someone who might cause her trouble, Aindri assumed this was him. The evident hate and frustration, the tremors in the Force, were a dead giveaway as to his identity. If it was a pissing contest between Overseers, then it also stood to reason her supposed rival knew something about her.

It was somewhat ridiculous how much Sith liked to gossip, akin to a rat pack of teenage girls.

The smaller sneered, his tone dripping sarcasm, “So you’re Overseer Tremel’s secret weapon. Impressive to be sure.”

It was Vemrin then, she mused, and curiosity piqued, Aindri reached out with Force as she descended the steps. He was strong, she would give him that, his anger and hatred coiling in the Force around him but there was also something else, buried deep beneath the surface.

Reaching him Aindri stood silent; they had sought her out, let them make the first move.

“Afraid the old man waited too long to make his move, though. Names Vemrin and unlike _you_ ,” He growled menacingly, stepping in close, offensively close, “I’ve fought and bled for everything I have. I _demand_ respect.”

Concealed to the point it was almost unnoticeable, Aindri could perceive the insecurity pervading his signature in the Force. Fear, his anger and hatred contained far too much fear for a Sith. All that bluster, that showmanship, it reeked of a desperate need for the recognition of others.

Vemrin’s emotions ran strong true, but the necessity of acknowledgement from external forces to believe in his own prowess was a critical weakness, made him easy to manipulate.

Overall, it may have seemed like he had potential, but she was far from impressed. Only a fool demanded respect rather than proving it was deserved, what he was doing should have been trained out of him long before Korriban.

“Respect is earned,” Aindri stated matter-of-factly, “And until you have mine, _step back_.”

Vemrin stiffened at the weight of the command in her words, nothing of the Force to reinforce them, a weight she rarely used. Slowly he backed away one grudging step, and while it was only one step, it was as big as the world.

“Believe it or not, I’m trying to keep you from getting killed, _friend_.” Vemrin sneered.

“This is ridiculous, Vemrin.” Declared the lug of an acolyte, grinning at her brutishly as his hand hovered over the hilt of his vibrosword, “Let’s just kill her and hide the body.”

Aindri snorted in derision, “Oh please, _do_ be my guest.”

Clearly, he’d been brought him for his brawn over his brains, if she didn’t find the dogs master a worthy opponent then there was no hope for the lapdog himself. If anything, the brute’s presence made it more obvious Vemrin lacked confidence. Relying too much on the threat of his thuggish companion discouraging trouble and weakening another’s resolve.

A sound strategy, if not for unlike the physical, stature meant nothing in the Force, and for any acolyte who understood this, Vemrin’s minion was much less or not at all intimidating.

“We’re not on Balmorra anymore, Dolgis. There are rules, traditions,” Vemrin chided the other, waving dismissively, “Leave the shortcuts to Overseer Tremel and his last pathetic hope here.” He sneered at her, “You are nobody after all. I am by far the better Sith.”

Regarding Vemrin with an emotionless expression, Aindri’s face broke into a cold smile and she didn’t even draw on the Force pinning him with a deadly stare. Her voice was soft and sugar sweet but her words holding a menacing promise.

“You are the one who is nothing,” She said slowly, “I am going to take everything which is yours, Vemrin,” Enunciating every single of her words, “I will burn your world out from under you and then.” She wanted him to remember, “I will kill you.”

Fear filled Vemrin’s eyes at the certainty, the off-handedness in her tone. Aindri didn’t recognise his strength, nor acknowledged him as the threat he believed he was. Without even realising it, anger replaced fear and Vemrin had bristled and moved as if to take a step forward but didn’t, rather contenting himself with simply leaning forward.

“You have no idea the enemy you’re making.”

Funny, Aindri could say the same, in a way she just did, only she would be able to carry out her threat. She didn’t even bother answering his statement and it was Vemrin who broke eye contact first. He snorted ineloquently and stalked off in a way which reminded Aindri of a child throwing a tantrum.

The Force was more turbulent around him, to the point she would even call it uncontrolled.

“Come on, Dolgis.” He grunted over his shoulder.

Unfortunately, Dolgis did not follow his master immediately, meaning Aindri had to deal with the annoyance of empty chatter from someone she had labelled a pest if even that.

“Listen to me, you useless priss.” He hissed, stomping up so his large frame loomed over her, “Acolytes aren’t allowed to murder each other. But accidents happen. It isn’t murder without witnesses. No more warnings,” Dolgis ground out through bared teeth, “Vemrin’s the alpha monster here. You go after Vemrin, you die.”

“One does not listen to the chatter of servants,” Said Aindri, inspecting her nails with an expression of utter boredom, “You should follow your master and _retreat_.”

She half-hoped he would do something stupid; the rules may state acolytes are disallowed from openly committing murdering rivals, but that didn’t mean limbs couldn’t be removed.

Regrettably, Dolgis was smarter than he looked, which wasn’t exactly difficult, but oh well.

She remained in the empty hall a moment longer, chewing over the encounter. Strength without discipline and strength without true intelligence, she mused. Like her first observations of Tremel, those she’d made of the two were to be kept provisional until she encountered them once or twice again, but Aindri had seen their kind before.

Dolgis knew he was small fish, clinging to Vemrin because Vemrin will protect him so long as he remains useful, even if that means just being the mimicry of a Sith’s entourage. He was biddable, stubborn and entrenched but would likely switch sides if brought low enough.

Vemrin was entirely different, more intelligent and certainly strong and Aindri could give him some credit for navigating Sith waters far as he had without drowning. Shakiness aside, he was likely one of the stronger acolytes at the Academy and if he resolved that shakiness, he’d make a somewhat decent Sith.

He was either aware of both or was a fool; self-awareness was critical for Force-Sensitives.

But fortune no longer favoured Vemrin, for deep beneath his veneer somewhere inside himself where he didn’t want to look. He was, at his core, a little boy still scared of the deep bad dark and the monster under the bed. She would chip away at him, prey on his insecurities, erode his foundation and he would crumble.

Vemrin would then either do something unwise or take the hit to his pride and leave well enough alone in hopes of an ambush. Either way, Aindri doubted she would face Vemrin directly for a while, he was more of a schemer and would most likely send someone to test the waters first, someone being Dolgis.

She locked away her observations as she turned for Tremel’s chambers. The door was thrown open wide and the Overseer stood on the threshold. His nose wrinkled at the scent of blood but otherwise approved she was still in once piece.

Tremel had heard the entire muffled exchange from within, throwing the rooms other occupant a meaningful look before throwing open his door. He noted Acolyte Hallow looking entirely calm and unruffled at the confrontation before ushering her in as the echoes of Dolgis’s footsteps faded.

“You’re here, good.” Said Tremel as he allowed her in, closing the door behind them.

He did not want any more interruptions and could not leave his door open for less than a minute and not have someone barge in for something or other; often it was entirely trivial.

“Tell me, how do you like your new blade?”

“It will be sufficient, thank you.” Aindri answered, setting the bag of relics down at her feet.

It wasn’t a lightsaber, but the warblade would serve well during her time on Korriban. She had to adjust somewhat, the weight of the warblade being at the tip, which was not the case with a lightsaber, to the change in dynamic. But she could, and did, easily adapt.

She cast a brief glance around the room, sparsely decorated it was still large enough for a metallic desk and several ancient stone urns. Like the rest of the Academy there was also a statue of the Emperor and a red imperial banner.

Sparse but comfortable while still evading suspicions of weakness or complacency, before stagnation could be encouraged. The room was certainly more brightly lit and less foreboding than most of the Academy.

A young woman stood before Tremel’s desk, clearly kin given their similarities, what stood out were the three scars running across the left side of her face. She looked sour and shrewish, a mood mirrored in the Force as sourness rippled from her.

At the mention of a new blade she looked as if she’d bitten into something unpleasant.

“What are you doing, father?” She demanded with a nasty look matching her shrill voice and tone petulant, “I’ve only just got my warblade and I’ve already been here six months!”

Ah, she felt threatened then, Aindri mused. Her she was a pupil pulled out of nowhere, trials accelerated, was she being supplanted? Did the daughter think she could match Aindri so Tremel would not have to look beyond his blood for his plans?

Tremel should know better than to keep his child so close. It gave the impression she was weaker than the others, not capable of surviving out of her father’s shadow. He appeared weak as well, afraid of letting his daughter go, letting her flourish on her own.

It was why despite misgivings, _‘Ari_ agreed to her leaving for Korriban, so she could broaden -her horizons, those set under his tutelage. Had the girl been trained away from her father she might have made a decent Sith, but in her mind she was too much of Tremel’s daughter.

“I have my reasons, Eskella,” Said Tremel, tone final, changing topics should have been a transparent end to their conversation, “And you will not breathe a word of this, to anyone.”

She had come in a moment prior with an annoyed expression indicating her foul mood, bemoaning something which had happened that day. It was jealously Tremel knew, and her low tolerance for Sith politics. If she couldn't have seen him, he would have likely rolled his eyes. She was talented and strong, but as her father, he still worried about her wellbeing.

Eskella’s mouth twisted and her fists clenched, “Yes.” When her father glared at her she ground out, “Yes, father.”

He often wondered where she would find a place amongst the Sith order. He worried for her life. He was all too aware that if she did not improve her ability to handle things as they happened, she would one day cross the wrong person. When that happened, Tremel was under no illusion he would be mourning the loss of his child.

Perhaps I have failed her in not being stricter, in pushing her harder, he mused a moment.

“This is Eskella, my daughter.” Tremel introduced drily, raising a Sith for a daughter, Eskella being angry with him was a semi-regular occurrence, “She’s an advanced student here, well on her way to becoming Sith.” She straightened at that, sending Hallow a smug look, it made him want to roll his eyes at her behaviour, “ _If_ she minds herself.”

Smugness was replaced by an immediate scowl, “I’ll keep quiet about your new charge father,” Eskella growled, “But I won’t be here if whatever you’re planning blows up in your face.” She snapped then stormed from the room.

Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he almost chuckled at Hallow’s stoic demeanour, the acolyte unperturbed by the jealous and bitter glares sent her way. Such control over her emotions was remarkable in younger acolytes, he’d caught her approval with the warblade before it was squashed with the self-reminder it was only the first step.

“Don’t mind her,” Tremel waved dismissively, leaning against his desk, “She’s just sore I’m keeping secrets. She’ll growl.” All children did, especially those training to be Sith who were easily egotistical and needed it beaten out, “But she’s loyal. Now to business, I thought I heard Vemrin’s voice in the corridor before you arrived. Did he make his move so soon?”

He certainly tried, Aindri mused, tilting her head, “He barked. Nothing more than that.”

“Then he must not fully comprehend the threat you represent, good,” Tremel smiled before frowning, but quickly wiped it from his face, “Still, I’d hoped we had more time. Vemrin’s not the type to sniff around too long before trying to take a bite.”

Especially when he’d felt threatened, Aindri would imagine, and he certainly felt it. All this made her wonder what the story between Tremel and Vemrin’s Overseer was. Tremel was certainly fixated on Vemrin, almost to the point of obsession. She wanted to scowl at that, obsession could be dangerous and had been the end of many a Sith.

“Sit down, Acolyte.” Tremel waved to a chair of the side of his desk as he took his own, it was time to enlighten Hallow as to her role, “In a drive for sheer numbers, the criteria for admittance has been relaxed. Now anyone with Force sensitivity is allowed entrance.”

Yes, the Edicts, privately Aindri found them ridiculous, she’d much prefer quality to quantity, especially when the system only fostered a single kind of strength in its subjects. But one did not argue with the Sith Emperor, not publicly at any rate, not by those who wished to live.

“Vemrin is one such acolyte,” Tremel continued, tone dripping with venom, like Vemrin’s very existence was a personal insult to his sensibilities, “He is mixed blood, the invisible rot eating away at the foundation of the Empire. He must not be allowed to advance.”

Aindri was careful to keep her face clear of emotion even as she wanted to stare for his idiocy. The Sith way was power and strength and whether human or alien, one’s species hardly dictated such matters.  Tormi was one such example and in some ways, she could end another’s life more easily than, for no one would think to look at a Twi’lek.

She far from agreed with the Empire’s xenocentric policies and _’Ari_ was nothing if not pragmatic, careful to spare her any such indoctrination and root out any such beliefs. Such petty prejudices and belief in human superiority created blind spots, weak points which could be manipulated for one’s benefits.

Her private education was something Aindri truly began to appreciate the benefits of. Did it not only spare her from the tripe the Overseer was spouting but it came with a deep self-awareness of her strengths, her weaknesses and her desires. If nothing else that together with pragmatism above all other things, was what her uncle passed along.

But Aindri refrained from voicing such thoughts aloud; it was hardly the time or place for a social and philosophical debate with the Overseer. Also, as much as it rankled, she needed to remain on Tremel’s good side for the time being. He didn’t get his post without skill.

She noted still, “So, you’re an elitist snob.”

Tremel arched a brow, “You say that like it’s a bad thing. It’s the Sith way.”

Such xenophobia was only a good thing for stuck-in-a rut traditionalists.

“Unfortunately,” Said Tremel, drawing her out of her mental rumblings which she forced to smooth out and let the irritation drift from her, “Vemrin’s caught the eye of Darth Baras, one of the most influential Sith Lords is being groomed to be his apprentice.”

What was Tremel planning? Another acolyte she could easily handle, even another overseer, but a Darth, a Darth was something else entirely. A Darth would know what kind of apprentice they wanted and wouldn’t take kindly to meddlers, especially one such as Baras who carried a certain, reputation.

He would have contingency upon contingency in place; if he suspected Tremel was plotting something…. the game in which she and Vemrin were pieces only became more dangerous.

“As Darth Baras’s apprentice, the power at Vemrin’s fingertips will be considerable,” Said Tremel, oblivious to her active mind, “He could change the Sith for the worst.” Reaching down he picked up a datapad and started typing, “You will receive training while you are here at the Academy. I am transmitting what you need to your datapad which will be with the Quartermaster along with the rest of your things. His office is on the east wing second floor near the dormitories.” He looked up, “Be quick, the evening meal is soon.”

Aindri nodded, “Before I leave Overseer, I would ask where I can find the archives?” She asked, looking to the bag at her feet, “I recovered relics from the tomb and would pass them onto the curator.”

“You can find the archives on the second floor of this building. Lord Graas’s offices are in the back one floor up,” He informed her, a gleam in his eyes when his gaze met hers, “You have a great destiny ahead of you acolyte, so train hard. I will call for you when it is time for your next trial.”

Getting to her feet and picking up the bag, Aindri bowed her head in gratitude, but it was not gratitude which was on her mind. There were two ways she could see this ending, either Baras would kill Tremel for his presumptions and keep her or would more likely use her to kill Tremel and call it an initiation.

Either way, Aindri would have to step carefully to avoid death by Tremel’s machinations.

* * *

 

Metal rang soft under her footfalls as Aindri traversed the second-floor corridor in the eastern wing of the Academy. She checked the room numbers against her datapad for her dorm room. In her hands she carried her personal bag having retrieved it from the Quartermaster first thing after having dropped off the relics with an appreciative Lord Grass.

Her arrival had evidently prevented him from going to the evening meal himself and he grumbled under his breathe about acolytes and poor time keeping. But a silent arched brow had him going back into the room he was about to lock to retrieve her things, delivered from _Sadow’s Revenge_ while she had been in Pall’s tomb all the same.

It was a single bag, light with only three changes of clothing and few other affects. She didn’t bring much to Korriban, simply not requiring them. There was also logic to having little of value. It meant you were less likely to ever be a target for those wanting something.

Stopping before the door to her room, Aindri palmed the entry pad and it slid open with a quiet hiss. Beyond was a sparsely decorated room, dark in colour with a splash of red in the form of another banner; true Sith fashion.

There were four beds, all in various states of tidiness, which meant she shared the room with four other occupants and four small desks with a lamp for private study. Inspecting the beds revealed draws underneath, opened by touching her datapad against the panel, and it was through simple observation she found which one belonged to her.

It was the only one vacant of signs of habitation.

Dumping her bag on well-made sheets, Aindri emptied the contents into an open draw, keeping only a fresh pair of robes back. She then packed away the bag itself and the thankfully intact puzzle cube. Her effects safely stored, she crossed the room to the small door in the right-hand wall and saw she was correct in believing it the refresher.

Looking in the mirror which took the whole wall above a long sink, Aindri grimaced at the state of her clothes, the reason why had not gone straight to dinner. Her appearance was rather effective at putting off her own appetite, so her fellow acolytes wouldn’t appreciate having to eat a meal amidst the odour she undoubtedly admitted.

She may not be a vain individual by nature, but she liked being clean and Aindri silently thanked Adas she had the presence of mind to tie up her hair before entering the tomb. She had found early on in her training getting blood, amongst other fluids and pieces of being out of her hair was never easy or pleasant.

Aindri stripped her clothes and tossed them into the trash chute to be incinerated before stepping under the shower. She tipped her head back when hot water hit her skin, sighing in delight despite the sting where it hit the open small nicks and cuts from the tomb. The pressure of the water pounded out the kinks and knots in well-toned muscles.

Hands pressed on the tiled wall, water sliding down over Aindri’s neck and shoulders. Her eyes watched the mix of blood, dirt and droid fluids mingle with the water, tinting it grey and lime green as it sluiced off her to circle and disappear down the drain.

The trial may have been ultimately disappointing, but the shower was still well earned.

It was difficult to say whether Aindri preferred standard or sonic showers, she valued the efficiency of the latter, but the former was one of the few luxuries she allowed herself. The young acolyte certainly enjoyed scrubbing the foul stench of K’lor’slug ichor from her skin.

She hit the button to shut off the water flow, coming out feeling refreshed and more human than when she went in. Drying herself with a towel, Aindri throw on the loose tunic, leggings and boots she had taken in with her and twisted her hair into a bun, pinning it with hairpins.

Checking the Academy map on her datapad, she left for the dining hall, taking both it and her warblade. Even with the rules, it would be foolish to navigate the Academy without means to defend herself. As it was, she needn’t have taken her pad, the hall was easy enough to find one floor below.

The east wing was dedicated solely to acolytes whereas the central wing, which housed the training facilities and offices of senior Overseers. The west was occupied by the Overseers personal quarters and visiting Sith whether they be Lords or Darths and training rooms reserved only for them and their own apprentices.

The halls were livelier, acolytes popping out of rooms off the corridors, or as most did, came from the central building’s direction. Aindri joined a small stream heading for the little over half-empty dining hall and she gave it sweep of her gaze before moving to the food.

She took a seat at one of the empty tables, managing to set down her tray without spilling anything from her plate. Aindri tore off a piece of bread roll and watched those flowing into the room, chewing thoughtfully. Most acolytes had their own little groups and it was easy to see who tolerated or despised each other by distance or tension between them.

Forced into a single place in a single space of time, it was easy to deduce group dynamics.

The largest groups where made of acolytes hardly strong in the Force. Aindri did not feel their presence much, drowned out as they were in the dining hall. Nor did they emanate any type of strength or confidence, keeping their heads down.

No threat or challenge, they would soon be another set of washouts in the Academy for it was the proving ground for all who would be Sith. Korriban had a well-earned reputation, anyone who was not smart or strong enough, was quickly weeded out. Hundreds of people were eating and talking in the hall, but few would survive the Sith Trials to join their ranks.

Slipping those passing her into hostile and non-hostile categories, Aindri wondered whether anyone from Ziost or Dromund Kass were at the Academy. It was to her disappointment, and somewhat of a relief, she did not recognise. There were some people Aindri had been rather happy to see the back off when leaving both planets.

But others could be on Korriban and she would be pleased if they did not cross paths.             

Drawn away from people watching by a rattle, Aindri looked up to see a broad-shoulder male pureblood, physique more overtly muscular than her own. He slid into the seat opposite her, lounging back and threading his fingers through closely cropped black hair, movements smooth and confident.

“So, you’re the new acolyte, whose Tremel added to Vemrin’s group and for your trials to boot.” The pureblood gave her an easy-going smile, glancing at the warblade resting against the leg of her chair, “And it seems the rumours you’ve already completed your first are true.” His yellow eyes sparkled in amusement, “You should have seen Vemrin in sparring today. He was pissed. You haven’t been here a night and your already making waves.”

Aindri arched a brow at the pureblood who started on his food, pausing and glancing up.

“Ah sorry, I seem to have forgotten my manners. I’m Venitas, Venitas Sanin.”

She inclined her head in greeting, “Aindri Hallow.”

“Congratulations,” Someone drawled, a tone which Aindri was coming to associate with a certain Twi’lek, and tipped her head back to see Tormi, “Not only did you survive the tombs, you even managed to find the one half-decent purebloods to roam the academies halls.”

“You give me too little credit, Tormi,” Venitas sighed dramatically, clearly used to dealing with the other’s mannerisms, “I am the only _decent_ pureblood.”

“Fine,” Tormi replied as she slid into the seat next to Aindri, a smirk playing on her lips, “You are the only _decent_ pureblood. Which means to say you’re a fairly terrible one.”

“You wound me, Tormi,” Venitas exclaimed, clutching at his chest.

Shaking her head at the twos continuing actions, Aindri tucked into her food, pointedly ignoring the curious stares aimed at her. There was little doubt word of her and Vemrin’s confrontation already spread throughout the Academy. Little doubt such gossip had already reached the ears of Darth Baras who likely knew the moment she had arrived planetside.

It would be difficult not to, given all the loud whispering, Sith were incorrigible gossips.

“Isn’t that the acolyte who’s been added to Vemrin’s group?”

“What? Where?”

“Next to the pureblood and the Twi’lek.”

“The pureblood I understand but a Twi’lek? Why is she sitting with such riff-raff?”

“She’s here for her trials, right?”

“She has to be strong in the Force to be doing them already!”

Tormi smirked at her, “Already popular I see.”

“She is essentially skipping the Academy,” Venitas said offhandedly, “Most people are here years before they’re even considered for the Trials. It was three before Prithor picked me in consideration of Lord Medechas,” He explained when she tilted her head curiously, nodding to Tormi, “Five for Tormi and the only reason she isn’t an apprentice already is because Harkun’s been delaying hers for as long as possible.”

The Twi’lek’s lips twisted into a scowl at the name Harkun and there was a spike of hatred in the Force. It was, however, quickly wiped from her face and replaced with her ever present smile and the Force settling back into calm. Aindri could almost think she imagined the change it was so quick, and she raised a brow at the Tormi.

“The xenocentric chauvinist?” She asked recalling what the other had said in the tomb.

“I could call him any number of things. But not all of them are suitable for polite company.”

Venitas chuckled, “They can be creative. I remember when you complained about being sent for offworld training a few month ago. The training room has still scorch marks.” He shrugged, “But yeah, Harkun wasn’t happy when you were placed under his supervision. Being an alien and former slave. At least Lord Zash, finally ordered him to get a move on.”

Aindri didn’t recognise the name, “Lord Zash?”

“The Lord who Harkun is administering my groups Sith Trials for,” Tormi explained, eating a mouthful of food then continuing, “She mostly works with Sith artefacts and rituals….”

“Which suits Tormi just fine.” Venitas interrupted with a knowing smirk, “Considering she knows every inch of the Archives. If she can’t find a text, then the Academy doesn’t have it.”

“So,” Said Tormi, the pureblood raising his hands placatingly when she gave him an irritated stare, “I was hoping to be sent into the tomb to collect relics.” Pushing her tray away she slumped forward over the table, “But of course Harkun sent me to Spindrall instead.”

“Well some do consider him a prophet,” Venitas mused absently tapping his empty glass before frowning at Tormi, “Still, you know the Sith Code like the back of your hand and most if not all who are sent to him are in danger of being kicked out of the Academy.” He tilted his head, “Harkun may hate you, but you’ve done nothing to warrant banishment.”

“He doesn’t need a reason other than he hates me,” Tormi muttered, a silence descending as she stared into space, broken by her quiet huff, “Another way of saying I’m not worthy.”

Aindri wiped away the remains of the sauce with a piece of bread and popped it in her mouth. She had rather enough of Overseers and their bigotry for that day and decided it was time to change the subject. See if she couldn’t learn what she could expect during her time at the Academy.

“So, individual Overseers are responsible for assigning Trials on behalf of a Lord or Darth seeking an apprentice,” She summarised, pushing her plate and cutlery aside so she could lean on the table and rest her chin on interlaced fingers, “But who teaches?”

“Mostly the assistant Overseers,” Answered Venitas, brow furrowed in concentration, “Loun teaches tactics and also helps with combat classes. Marken teaches Sith history.”

Tormi glowered and Aindri felt there was a story there, noting to keep an eye on the man.

“Rance is one of the few Overseers who teaches but only the advanced combat class, unless you’re really good, you won’t have him.” Continued Venitas, cocking his head as he scoured his mind to see if there was anything he’d forgotten, “Some of the visiting Sith Lords will give guest lectures but that’s pretty rare. In fact, Lord Cestus whose here for research is the first since us two have been here.”

Aindri raised a brow, “What is he researching?”

Venitas scratched his cheek sheepishly, “I’m not actually sure since he’s been visiting tombs outside the Valley.”

“And we acolytes are never sent to tombs beyond it,” Tormi griped, her eyes turning glassy at the thought of all that history just waiting to be unearthed, “Oh the secrets those tombs must hold,” She sighed dreamily, hope working its way into her voice, “You think Cestus will take me with him when he investigates Dathka Graush’s tomb tomorrow?”

“That’s the Sith King buried in Golg Valley, right?” Venitas asked, pursing his lips when Tormi nodded, “Probably not.”

“Damn,” Tormi moaned, draping herself across the table, “Damn, damn, damn!”

Aindri and Venitas quickly picking up their trays before Tormi could knock them to the ground when she started rolling across the table. In the corner of her eye, Aindri saw a pureblood moving towards them. She shifted subtly in her chair to be able to easily move when his shadow fell over the table and over Tormi who he looked down on.

“Ah Ffon, how nice to see you again so soon,” Tormi drawled, pushing herself to stand, cocking her hip as she tapped her lower lip with a slender finger, “Hard you say? More like dull, my marks in philosophy are top of the class after all.” She threw him a sickeningly sweet smile, “You are fifth if I remember correctly. Ah but then, given you’re ‘privileged’ upbringing, I’m sure mummy and daddy made everything easy for their precious little boy.”

Tormi’s voice was a lower purr, but it carried and the acolytes around them laughed or stifled their sniggers. The Twi’lek’s grin widened when Ffon’s face darkened and he growled low in his throat, entering his personal space with sparks dancing between her fingertips.

“And when your own strength is finally and truly tested,” She smiled, hand trailing down to rest lightly on Ffon’s chest, “You’ll be on the floor, convulsing, bleeding, dying and I’ll be standing over you, laughing.”

Twisting, Tormi sauntered away with her dinner, leaving Ffon there speechless and trembling in barely supressed rage. Oh, he feared as well, the pureblood knew Tormi was a threat to him, but it was better concealed than that of Vemrin’s.

Lips quirking upwards at the exchange, Aindri pulled away from the table, shoulder brushing the purebloods as she passed, Venitas following behind her with his own smirk and a shrug.

Aindri knew it had reached night on Korriban as they walked back, the certainty coming from the reduction in acolytes. The lighting within the Academy had been dimmed to conserve power but while the shadows had grown longer, there was still plenty to see by.

The lights illuminating the stone statues, the trappings bearing the Sith logo, were all the brighter and therefore more striking. She knew it was intentional. Why else have one directly on them, if not to press home the importance of the Empire and Sith on acolytes.

Venitas pointed various rooms to her, sparring and rooms for individual practice, group and private study rooms. There were countless passageways, some obvious but others not as much. It made not only the dormitories but the entire Academy a labyrinth of twisting corridors designed to disorientate and overwhelm those unused to the structure.

A measure against invaders; they were taking no chance in losing the Academy once again.

“You’re lucky I’m willing to show you around the place,” Venitas smirked playfully, “Most are left to find everything on their own.” He grinned in remembrance, “Stumbling around like lost little nerfs.”

They parted near the quartermaster’s office, Venitas’s vanishing down a left side passage after bidding her goodnight. She turned down another, her own dorm in a separate part of the wing and as she came to the door there was a shout and a loud clatter.

Aindri arched a brow at the scene before her when the door slid open.

One acolyte, a hulking brute of a woman, slammed another into the wall with a loud growl, one hand on their collar, the other drawn back fisted as the slighter acolyte hurled insults.

She quickly lost interest in what, by Sith standards, was a simple playground squabble and fully entered the room, passing the fistfight for her bed. The room fell silent as Aindri did, three heads swivelling towards her, the larger acolyte dropped their prey in favour of looking her up and down.

A human with greasy black hair slid from the desk they sat on, strutting over with a smirk.

“So, this is the new meat the red twit met in the tomb huh? Doesn’t look like much.”

“This ‘new meat’ could beat one-handed, Leena,” Tormi drawled mockingly, smile present like always, “Unlike you, we found Pall’s tomb easy.”

The acolyte, Leena, scowled, “You think your all that don’t you, bitch.”

Tormi smiled turned catlike, “I could slaughter you wiggling my fingers. Remind me of our sparring record, Kathna?”

“Ten wins to Tormi, zero to Leena.” Smirked the largest acolyte.

Leena scowled but with four witnesses and an acolyte of unknown skill she could not do much and with one last glance at the other harrumphed before moving to her bed. Training began early at the Academy and she liked to have her sleep.

“Was wondering when we’d get our new roommate,” Rasped the acolyte who’d been fighting with Kathna, massaging at her still sore neck, “Been ages since Yanna kicked the bucket.”

“Your beds previous occupant,” Tormi clarified when Aindri tilted her head in a silent question, “She died in an ‘accident’.” She rolled her eyes at the other, “Your sense of time is as bad as ever Naija. It was only two months ago.”

Naija shrugged, “Whatever, like I give a shit. She died we didn’t, that’s all there is too it.”

“Carefree as always aren’t you,” Kathna grunted, irritating bleeding through the Force and spiking at the other acolyte’s shrug, “Long as you’re not like her.” She jerked her head at Naija, “And me hell alone, we’ll get along fine.”

Face twisting into a sneer, Naija narrowed her eyes, “Ditto with this brute.”

Their warnings were moot, Aindri had no inclination of involving herself in any such childish disagreements. Neither Kathna or Naija posed a threat, nor Leena. Naija at least would make an average Sith, her emotional control was decent, but she wasn’t particularly strong in the Force. None of the three were.

Regardless, acolytes under the same Overseer did not room together and so apart from the brief periods they would be in their dormitories, she would hardly interact with any of them.

Antagonising any of the three would be a waste of energy, and Tormi was somewhat an ally.

Bidding her roommates night with a gesture, she retired to her bed, slipping into a meditative trance as she readied for sleep. Aindri fully opened herself to the world, the academy welling up around her. The general distress of the place quietening as the Force signatures of the numerous acolytes and Sith descended into sleep.

Retreating back behind her shields, Aindri allowed her stoicism to slip and a feral smile to grace her face in the darkness, lights turning off in the time she’d been submerged in the Force. Deadly creatures, near impossible trials, extremely competitive acolytes and permission to run wild in the tombs, she was going to have a lot of fun.


	3. Trial of Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went back to the first two chapters and cleared the structure up a bit but content is mostly the same. Hope you enjoy.

Aindri awoke to darkness and the sound of her roommates soft breathing filling the air. She slipped from her bed, sheets pooling in its centre and knelt to access the draw, withdrawing a set of loose clothing in which she then dressed, adjusting her cuffs.

Taking her warblade Aindri padded silently from the room, blinking at the jump in brightness, sudden and harsh. Her feet carried her to one of the floors private training room as had become habit since her first morning a week ago. Like every day the past two weeks the halls were empty, most asleep at such an early hour.

For Aindri, the promise of privacy was worth the sacrifice.

Palming the keypad of a small door, Aindri stepped into the room, feet pressing down on the springy floor made to cushion impacts and the strikes of training blades. Under the artificial lighting one could see faint scratches and scorch marks littering the surfaces.

Rolling her shoulders, she ran through a series of stretches and moved into the centre, adopting the opening stance of Shii-Cho, the most basic form of lightsaber combat. Slowly working through the sweeping motions and perpendicular parries which her muscles long since memorised, Aindri snapped the warblade into a tight guard.

Precision and control characterised her next movements, gliding across the floor in a series of strikes with an elegance distinctive of the second form Makashi. She did, however, dispense with the needless characteristic artistic flourishes.

She moved through the katas, devoting extra time to the newer, more advanced Ataru techniques taught to her by Rance. Finishing the sequence with a final forward flip she switched to fast paced mock-combat. Taking her blade through a series of freestyle manoeuvres striking imaginary enemies, _Ari’_ words reverberating through her mind.

_Every feint, every dodge, every block is a trap to the unwary._

Stepping forward, pivoting, taking a new angle for attack, Aindri’s boots stepping lightly as she flowed, one motion into the next and the next. Occasionally she faltered, a misplace foot her, awkward positioning as she tried to connect techniques there. Aindri continued until she was satisfied, improving and refining with every strike.

Pausing, Aindri lifted her right hand from the warblades hilt and twisted her wrist to check her chronometer; she had been practicing for two hours, the day would be starting soon. Relaxing her stance, she deactivated the blade, sheathing it in a fluid motion and wiping the sweat from her forehead, beginning her cool down stretches.

Walking back to her dormitory room, Aindri heard acolytes wake and begin preparing for the day ahead. Clatters when blades were removed from weapon racks, banging when draws or lockers were slammed shut. Tormi gave her a lazy wave as she entered the room, reading something on her datapad.

Aindri headed for the refresher to wash away her built up sweat, tipping her head back with a pleased sigh. The clothes she grabbed where a set of duelling leathers, tough dark brown fabric over red shirt and pants, reinforcing vital areas while giving her a range of movement.

Passing Leena, shifting to avoid her when she attempted to knock her shoulder of an excuse to start a fight, Aindri headed down to breakfast. She entered a slowly filling dining hall as more half-asleep acolytes stumbled from their rooms. Her swept found her dormmates scattered amongst the tables, a long line of acolytes awaiting caff and Venitas in the middle.

“Morning,” He greeted at her approach, “Where’s Tormi?”

“Reading.” Aindri replied, until there was a familiar ripple in the Force, “She’s coming now.”

Venitas shook his head, “I’ll always be amazed how sharp your Force Sense is.”

“It is a family trait.”

What Aindri didn’t say was her sense was the strongest in several generations.

“Oh right, the Hallow clan are descendant from the Kissai,” The pureblood mused, chewing on his food thoughtfully, “It would make sense yours is so powerful since they had the strongest connection to the Force of any of the three castes.”

“Originally yes.” Aindri sipped her tea, “Later the clan accepted the Massassi and Zuguruk.”

“Huh,” Said Venitas, gracing with a rueful smile, “You know, you are starting to make me feel inadequate.” He leaned back in his seat, breakfast forgotten, “I may be a pureblood, but my family is nowhere near as old as yours.”

“It confers certain advantages, but also... expectations.”

Venitas grimaced in sympathy, “Yeah at least my line not being as distinguished as yours I get to put _that_ off longer.”

Aindri shrugged, at least in the academy she was free from familial interference since it was forbidden for outsiders to inhibit an acolytes training. _Ari’_ had also been excellent in dissuading many tempted seekers, in part the reason she treasured him as much as she did.

Discussing family led to Aindri recalling Tormi’s own history the Twi’lek had divulged over the course of their short friendship. Born into slavery, Tormi knew little of her families past only it was old and could be traced back to a planet in Sith space. According to oral tradition, her family was once of great importance until a great betrayal had them falling from grace.

Spending her childhood moving place to place, Tormi was acknowledged by the Sith when an officer hunted her, her parents and a group of fellow slaves for sport and she shot back.

Tormi had hoped Korriban, home to the Sith Academy Archive which held the largest collection of Sith texts she would find information on her family history. The collection was also the closest to public as an individual could claim of material belonging to the Sith Order and so was the Twi’leks best bet at doing so.

Dead-ends at most avenues of search left Tormi greatly frustrated but then Matyar was not a name of Sith origin, let alone one belonging to an ancient Sith family and that limited her.

Banishing thoughts of Tormi to the back of her mind, Aindri unlocked her datapad to check her schedule. Senior acolytes, those who were in the process of undergoing their trials, were granted more freedom in their studies than younger Sith-in-training.

While still attending lessons, much of their time was devoted to individual training and study. They were expected to primarily spend their time on honing their specialities, which left their schedules nebulous.

“Vemrin’s glaring at you again,” Venitas’s offhanded comment drew her attention away from her pad to the opposite end of the room, “Another session with Rance?”

Fast-tracked for the trials, Aindri had joined Venitas and Tormi in being placed in Rance’s class and in the beginning the overseer had been far from happy with the addition of an extra acolyte. It was something he made abundantly clear in her first lightsaber practice...

* * *

 

_Exiting a gloomy corridor, Aindri’s boots hit hard packed sand and she squinted as her eyes adjusted to the glaring sunlight. She, Tormi and Venitas were standing in a massive open-air arena attached to the back of the Academy, practice dummies in various states of disrepair littering its floor._

_On a large stage two acolytes duelled furiously under the watch gaze of an older man, an overseer from the lightsaber hanging from his belt. Aindri shivered slightly, the dark side making the world’s atmosphere cold despite Horuset beating down on them from above._

_“It will be finished soon.” Venitas murmured._

_Aindri nodded in silent agreement, the acolyte on the left was slowing, their chest heaving._

_A loud crack echoed across the arena and the exhausted acolyte’s training saber, having yet to earn the right to a warblade, clattered to the floor as his wrist fractured. Though they could not hear him, the Overseer’s annoyance vibrated through the Force and the injured acolyte limped off the stage, head hung in shame._

_Resentment roiling beneath the surface and Aindri had no doubt it was that very resentment which kept him trudging pass them across the sand. His opponent followed soon after, a satisfied smirk on his face, expression mirrored in the Force._

_The Overseer watched as they gathered at the stage, frowning when his gaze landed on her._

_“I see we have a new face. Try to keep with the rest.”_

_Aindri only regarded him coolly, to speak would only invite further barbs from the man._

_She would do as she always did and prove herself through her actions._

_“Hmph. Five laps around the arena.” He snapped when most acolytes groaned, “Now!”_

_Jumping, the acolytes set off at a steady jog, Aindri keeping to the middle of the pack so by the third when weaker acolytes begun falling behind, she pulled ahead. By the fifth, her lungs were burning slightly and reaching the final stretch, she drew on the pin in her muscles to fuel her strength, putting on a final burst of speed._

_She was the first to finish, ignoring Vemrin in favour of stretching out her muscles when he glared at her as he came to a stop. Aindri could feel the Overseer watching the exchange with cold interest as he waited for the other acolytes. Venitas finishing easily within the top ten while Tormi came sixteenth, her pureblood adversary seconds ahead._

_“Let’s see if any of you pathetic lot have improved since the last time,” He growled._

_When the last of the acolytes staggered to a panting halt, he pointed each of them to a dummy and like Aindri expected her was assigned last and not before an added threat._

_“So, you’re Tremel’s supposed hotshot; let me be clear.” He leaned forward, intruding into her personal space, “Why you were brought to the Academy early I don’t care. Until I see your skills for myself, you are nothing.”_

_Aindri furrowed her brow at his turned back as she stalked off to shout at a pair of acolytes on the opposite of the arena. Venitas chuckled, clapping a hand onto her shoulder and took a stance before his target, located next to hers._

_“Don’t mind him, most of them don’t like any of us. Rance especially.” The pureblood gave her an irritating close-eyed smile, “Unfortunately for you, he does like Vemrin. Tough luck.”_

_Sighing, because of course their lightsaber instructor favoured Vemrin, Aindri adopted Shii-Cho’s opening stance, bringing back fond memories of Ari’ visiting the clan estate on Ziost._

_She would admit to being a brat back when she was a child, demanding to be taught the advanced sets with her hands clenching and unclenching around her training saber. She had not cared about sounding like a spoiled child, only her demands were meet._

_Her growth rate, acknowledge as outstanding by others, had gone to her head. However, Ari’ had always been patient with her though and had always managed to get her to renew her focus on training and keep Aindri humble._

_When Rance called to switch stance, Aindri flowed seamlessly from a disarming slash into a flawless lunge, stabbing the training dummies chest area. They continued for hours, time flying as they hacked and slashed at their targets and the overseer finally called them to a stop when the sky began to darken._

_“Some of you aren’t useless after all.” Rance grunted._

_The Overseer gave her a subtle nod of approval when their eyes caught the others._

_He dismissed them and she followed tired acolytes eagerly leaving the arena, overtaking Tormi whose breathing was somewhat heavy due to exertion. They joined the flow of acolytes in bustling hallways, some conversing in low tones, others keeping their heads down and trying to slip unseen through the crowd._

* * *

 

By the end of her first week on Korriban, the Overseer had a new favourite, taking to singling her out in class to demonstrate advanced manoeuvres. Rance even pulled her aside and began to privately give her advanced instruction, further enlisting Assistant Overseer Loun, a female pureblood, to spar with her in their sessions.

Given how in the halls, most acolytes gave the woman a wide berth with very few venturing near the crimson armoured woman, she was clearly powerful, Assistant Overseer or not.

Even before they began, Loun seemed to know who Aindri was and she later discovered, the pureblood was important enough in Tremel’s circle of power he informed her. Aindri was told in not so many words, the Overseer had a knack for finding interesting individuals but in her he may have outdone himself. It piped her curiosity enough to agree to Rance’s request.

The change in Rance’s focus from his training to her own had enraged Vermin and she knew only the Academy rules where stopping him from confronting her and try to slit her throat.

A tug on the Force told her that would end soon.

“Hello, my pretties,” Tormi smirked, “Ready for Cestus’s lessons? I heard he’s a hard arse.”

“Charming as always Tormi,” Said Venitas with rolled his eyes, “But yes I’m ready.”

What remained of breakfast was preoccupied by taking about what the Sith Lord’s lesson could be. Tormi unsurprisingly hoped it would be surrounding his research while Venitas voiced his doubts. Aindri was inclined to agree with him, most Sith were cagey with their research and very few were not. Sith hoarded and sabotaged, they did not readily share.

She, however, remained silent during the exchange, content to listen.

During the day, there was a charge to the air in the Sith Academy, like walking inside a thundercloud. Most of the beings stalking its hallowed halls seemed either oblivious to it, or else they simply didn’t care. But it thrummed under the skin, tense and alive. It felt like a brawl waiting to start, a fire waiting to be lit.

Tension, anger and fear all swirled together in a terrible storm akin to a hurricane and Aindri drank it all in as the three navigated the corridors and stairs towards the Academy Archives.

And for all the emphasis on purity, for all it was espoused by Tremel, by Harkun, the mixture of beings occupying the Academy was almost startling in its diversity. As expected, the majority were still humans and purebloods, but amongst them also walked Zabraks, Togruta, Twi’leks and even a handful of Mirialans and Cathar.

Many of those non-humans and purebloods had scars twisted around the backs of their necks, removed slave collars. But while their physical shackles were gone it was clear the former slaves were far from emancipated. It showed in their slow and unsure gait, downward turned faces, hunched shoulders.

In sharp contrast was Tormi who walked head held high, assured of her belonging and with full mastery of herself and her environment, throwing open the heavy doors of the Archives.

Containing centuries worth of accumulated Sith knowledge, the Archives took up an entire two floors of the Academy. In open-plan study areas one could see the second floor ringed by low balconies. Acolytes and the occasional Overseer perused shelves full of holobooks, ancient tomes, worn stone tablets and holocrons, glowing faint crimson and violet hues.

Individual desks and large tables equipped with chairs, some occupied others not, were placed strategically across the onyx floor. Corridors branched of the sides of the main room which lead to individual and group study rooms.

They turned down one such corridor for the room reserved for their lesson.

Entering the room, Aindri picked up snippets of conversations from chattering Acolytes, spotting Vemrin who scowled at her from across the room and ignoring his unsubtle growl.

Beside her Tormi stumbled slightly, the pureblood, Ffon, bumping her shoulder as he pushed past, and she was silent as she glared daggers at his receding back. Aindri arched an eyebrow at the Twi’lek when she sensed a ripple of power in the Force and through the door strode a rugged skinned Sith with dark brown hair.

“Lord Cestus,” Venitas whispered to her.

Aindri hummed in acknowledgement, silence descending as Cestus halted at the front of the room, many watching the older Sith with bated breath. She could sense their anticipation; what kind of secrets and knowledge would a Sith Lord impart on them?

He coolly regarded the acolytes before him and answered, “Meditation.”

Most groaned and Cestus glared at them, daring someone to speak up. Glancing at each other, Aindri shrugged and sunk down into a meditative position, closing her eyes as Venitas and Tormi did the same. Cestus cast a watchful eye over the acolytes sitting whatever variety of pose they found comfortable.

“Contrary to popular belief, Sith do meditate. But unlike the _Jedi_ ,” Cestus spat out the word like the foulest of curses, “We do not release our emotions into the force, we do not supress them. We harness them, concentrate them into a finely-honed point...”

The Lords voice grew distant as Aindri slowed her breath, fixing them in her mind. Herself, Tormi, Venitas, Ffon, Vemrin, the room, the Archives. She narrowed her perceptions to the room alone. Emptied her mind of all sounds expect her breathing, all scents expect the soap she used showering that morning. Mind empty like cupped hands unable to hold water.

While a rather peaceable thing to visualise, something a Jedi would like, Aindri always imagined water as an exceptional metaphor for the Force. A vast sea possessing its own eddies and currents.

Water could drown or crush a person if there’s enough, it could quench fire which in return could only turn water into steam which scalds the unwary. Water could wear away anything given enough time. Too much water one could die, too little one could die.

Cold water could smooth on a hot day or kill through hypothermia. Hot water could warm on a cold day but could also boil one like a lobster. The Jedi liked water, serene, tranquil streams, great gentle oceans but they forgot it was also a highly destructive force.

Sentients had learned to tame water but never truly shackle its power.

The smooth stone floor fell out from under her as she submerged herself into the Force.

Something lapped at the edge of her mind, changing the darkness spreading out to purple, and red and grey and green and blue. All around her, colourful emptiness spread out. But something hummed in the shadows, something deeper.

A light burst from a point of nothing until Aindri was staring into the eye of a ferocious storm with whipping winds and crackling electrical energy. The storm faded as she distanced herself, until it a single light woven into the ocean of presences standing off to the side together with a strong immovable force, simmering hatred, and deep-seated fear.

The pulsing and flickering lights melded together, reaching her in the void akin to white-light. All the lights reached her in pieces standing out from each person. A great spectrum, a single light, and the individual colours unaware of their fusion. One ocean, one single body of water, and the individuals eddies and currents unaware of their great body.

Bubbles surrounded some lights, a few wrapped in cobwebbed cloud wisp. A grey, smoky haze filled some, letting only a slight glimmer of the light through. For as many lights were as many different barriers surrounding, some without any boundaries whatsoever.

Some were bright and blinding and others, many, in danger of going out completely.

Each light tinted or skirted around the edges of each other according to their own strength or desire. There were even some lights close enough they could slip in and form an entirely new presence just from their proximity to each other.

Colours burned within the lights, all changing and evolving as she stared at them. Everything shone, everything burned. The same light gathered up into one, all across the valley. On the edge of her range, a hazy mass of light, half fire half glass swirled like a sunset over a horizon. Aindri floated freely in the Force, watching the lights swirl and dance.

Coming back to reality, her eyes flickered open, enhanced eyesight allowing Aindri to trace the bumps and groves of the back walls rough surface. Two armoured legs appeared in her vision and she peered up to see Cestus standing above her, arms crossed.

“Look who is back,” Cestus said slowly, “Any longer and I would suspect you had fell asleep.”

Looking around Aindri found that apart from her Tormi was the only one still meditating, tendrils of dark side energy coiling around her. Opening her eyes, the Twi’lek stretched languorously as if she had woken up from a long and much needed nap.

“Most, impressive acolyte.” Cestus admitted grudgingly, and Tormi smiled smugly at the other acolytes, the pureblood and Vemrin seething among them. “Congratulations to those three of you who successfully achieved a meditative state.”

A quick observation of her fellow acolytes made it obvious to Aindri who else succeeded.

Venitas was smirking and his light grew a fraction brighter.

“Especially since the rest of you didn’t even stay focused for more than a few minutes.”

Cestus kept his voice controlled, but with her senses enhanced from submerging herself in the Force she could feel his building anger and frustration, light tinted red and flaring.

Ffon stood, objecting loudly, “But, my Lord, they must have cheated! A former....”

“That’s right!” Vemrin interrupted, “There’s no chance someone taking shortcu...”

“Silence!” Cestus snapped, and Vemrin and Ffon flinched at his tone, “Neither of you have a right to whine,” He growled at them, before glaring at Vemrin, “Especially you Acolyte. You fell asleep within ten minutes of starting!” He rounded on the rest, “I will not waste my time on such pathetic excuse for Sith. Don’t return until you’ve practiced another ten years!”

Cestus stormed from the room, muttering something unsavoury about womp rats and acolytes under his breath. Conversation only broke out among the Acolytes when his presence faded from their senses.

Aindri waited until Vemrin’s rage built as he continued to be ignored before regarding her supposed rival with a cold smile, the Dark Side flaring around her. He clapped shut his opened mouth when the temperature dropped, and grey eyes bled to yellow.

Everything grew deadly quiet, Acolytes ceasing their conversations and turning their attentions to the two red-heads standing metres away from each other. She pinned Vemrin with a deadly stare, an Acolyte considered to be one of the strongest in the Academy and the closest among them to becoming Sith.

But she didn’t flinch as they locked gazes and though he tried to stare her down, it was Vemrin who broke eye contact first growling, stomping from the room. Aindri’s lips twitched, he may not know, but with that, Vemrin’s downfall had already began. He had showed himself weak turning away and already he was looked at differently than before.

Blood was in the water and the Academy full of predators waiting to pounce.

Releasing her hold on the Force, the palpable tension in the air dissipated, Aindri’s eyes reverting to their natural grey. Tormi giggled behind her and with a wink, sauntered over to Ffon, leaning down to say something in the purebloods ear.

Her voice, while too low to carry to where Aindri and Venitas stood, was loud enough the acolytes near him laughed. His red skin grew darker and Tormi gave him one last smile before waltzing from the room. They were halfway down the hallway when they heard the purebloods roar of rage echoing down the corridor.

“Slow, isn’t he?” Tormi snickered, “And they think they’re superior to us. Our top rivals.”

Venitas shook his head, “Between you and Aindri I almost pity the fools. Almost.”

A gentle vibration stole Aindri’s attention and she withdrew her datapad, her companions halting beside her as she inputted her password and checked the message she had received.

“It’s from Tremel. He has summoned me to his office. I am excused for the rest of the day.”

* * *

 

Setting his datapad on the desk, Tremel sat back, fingers interlaced beneath his chin.

The report on Acolyte Hallows progress showed she had surpassed expectations and he would have to readjust his assessment of her abilities. She demonstrated intelligence and strength, and the moment she had stepped off the shuttle the Overseer had felt the ripples in the Force that her very presence was causing.

There were of course, whispers of discontent amongst the acolytes and overseers at her arrival, but after a taste of her abilities many admitted she deserved her place. Even Rance, who originally favoured Vemrin, had begun giving her one-on-one instruction.

He would be worried of the spreading rumours reaching Baras if he had not already made his next move. Relooking over the prisoner profiles he found the three criminals flagged for expedited transport to Korriban. Three cases specially selected to best test Hallow’s mind.

Tremel looked up when the door to his office slid open and his chosen Acolyte entered.

“You’re here, good,” He greeted, moving from his desk to stand directly before Hallow, “Do you know why I called you here?”

“My second Trial,” Aindri replied.

Truthfully, though she knew Tremel would be expediting her Trials, Aindri was surprised he had called her for her second so soon. She could allow receiving her warblade early, but this could place her in a position of perceived weakness, one she could have to correct.

“You are correct,” Said Tremel, “There are three prisoners in the Academy jails. Interrogate them and decide their fates. Consider each criminal’s story carefully.” He leaned back on his desk, “The decisions you make will be scrutinized, let your passions guide your judgements.”

She arched a brow, “Who will judge my actions?”

“Me. When Darth Baras catches wind of you. It’s going to be my neck on the line as much as yours.” He replied matter-of-factly, “The head jailer Knash is waiting for you in one of the holding rooms.” Tremel waved dismissively, “Now, go and return to me after you have passed judgement on the prisoners.”

Inclining her head, Aindri left the Overseer’s office for the more expansive underground floors which held the jails and slave pens. Both Venitas and Tormi had talked of their training on those levels and how neither of them had any particular knack for interrogation.

Descending the stairs, she came into a long cavernous room, the lights doing little to chase away the shadows. Ray-shielded cells lined rough-hewn walls, casting an eerie red glow across the dark floor, ceiling and walls. Various doors led into individual interrogation rooms, from which she could hear pained screams and smell burned flesh.

Closing her eyes, Aindri could feel the despair infusing the walls, lights reduced to embers.

Passing by an open door, she saw a prisoner convulsing on a table, as a Sith in inquisitors’ robes burned him with electricity. Further imprisoned in the cells were those ranging from captured republic soldiers to slaves. Some banged on the shields with anger and desperation, but many sat on the floor staring listlessly into space.

The holding rooms were located deeper within the jails, backed onto a landing pad where shuttles could load and unload detainees. Aindri blinked when she heard a chirping sound float through the open doorway. The cheerful sound foreign amongst the anguish permeating the jails, followed by a more familiar yelp of pain.

The head Jailor Knash was a balding Sith, a scruffy beard taking up most of his face, he was holding a remote control of a shock collar and glaring down at the blue Twi’lek in the cell.

“Ow! Jerk,” The Twi’lek groaned, clutching at her neck with a grimace before dropping her hands to her hips and giving a wide smile, “If you don’t like that just say so, I can do other animals too. Dire-cat, frog-dog, Kowakian monkey lizard, you name it.”

Roughly her height, the Twi’lek wore loose fitting clothing and her lekku lacked tribal tattoos unlike Tormi. Reflected within soft violet eyes, hidden wisdom clashed with a spark of mischievousness. Her light was bright and danced playfully despite her bleak surroundings.

Aindri felt a slither of admiration at the Twi’leks courage, her tenacity and spirit. She was sharp, quick-witted and had a feistiness to her which would have done the Twi’lek well in life had she not been captured.

She had a strength the Acolyte doubted Knash nor others bothered to notice. In the Empire she was nothing more than an alien, and a slave race at that. If the Twi’lek was not a runaway slave, she soon likely would be one sold off to the highest bidder.

So yes, Aindri somewhat admired the Twi’lek’s strength of will in the face of adversity.

Gliding on silent feet across the room, Aindri tilted her head and tapped the Sith lightly on the shoulder. She stepped back as Knash jumped and whirled around, staring at her with wide eyes, narrowing in anger and widening again when he had a flash of realisation.

“You’re the Acolyte Tremel sent for the test, right?” He asked uncertainly.

She leaned against the crates stacked behind her, “And you are Knash.”

“Yeah,” He swallowed, the old jailor knew this one was dangerous, “I run these cells and slave pits. You should know this situation is highly unusual. Tremel must think highly of you to ship in prisoners rather than sending you offworld for interrogation.” He cast a scowl at the Twi’lek, “Or using the wretches caught here.”

Again, position of perceived weakness; interrogations were meant to be done off-world and with a purpose but instead Tremel circumvented the usual procedures. Aindri knew that with their limited timeframe the Overseer could not afford to send her offworld, but it did not change that it made it look like she needed to rely on someone else.

“He seems to think you’re the next coming of Exar Kun,” Continued Knash, he had heard the rumours Tremel hand chose her, “But you ought to know he ain’t the only one watching.”

“Hardly a surprise given the circumstances in which I arrived,” Aindri replied dismissively.

Harrumphing, Knash led her towards three non-rayshielded cells, holding three separate prisoners; a human woman, a balding man in Sith robes and in the far cell a Neimodian.

“These are the prisoners transferred here. You gotta interrogate them as needed and decide their fate. They’re normally executed or given a trial by combat to see if their worthy.” He nodded at the single vibrosword on a weapons rack, “Whatever you decide, you will be the one carrying out the sentence.”

Aindri examined the woman in the first cell who still stood despite the signs of severe beatings, a fresh bruise blooming across her left cheek and meet her eyes with a steely gaze.

“You freaks aren’t getting anything new out of me,” Sneered the dark-haired woman contemptuously, “I have been through this routine. Just do whatever you’re gonna do.”

Knash regarded her coolly, “Impudent to the last. She was sent to kill an imperial spy in the Yavin system but throughout her torture, she maintained that she was hired anonymously.”

Protecting ones’ identity was standard practice when employing assassins and refusing to give a name or affiliation made it harder to trace back to you if they failed, however…

_Analyse every explanation, evaluate every motive, scrutinise every opportunity._

“Republic assassins are trained to resist torture.”

The assassin scowled, “I’m not political. I work for whoever pays.”

There was truth in the assassin’s words and Aindri subtly tilted her head, regarding the woman thoughtfully as she debated her options. She didn’t deny the charge, but execution would prove fruitless nor would the woman be able to defeat her in combat. But there was a third avenue; if she failed, she would die but if she succeeded, would benefit the Empire.

“She will be spared and be sent to Imperial Intelligence. They will find some use for you.”

There was a gleam in the assassins’ eyes at the prospect of earning, “I won’t work for free.”

“You and Intelligence can come to a suitable accord,” She replied smoothly.

Moving onto the next cell, Knash muttered behind her back, “Interesting choice.”

“Please, I am a fellow Sith,” Implored the next prisoner, the man wearing tattered Sith robes, “Judge me with an open mind and grant me trial by combat, I beg of you.”

“Sith don’t beg,” Aindri rebuked.

She did, however, feel somewhat sympathetic, for a warrior dying without a weapon in hand was one of the greatest shames they could endure. Aindri knew because she was the same and if she was to die it would be fighting with a lightsaber in her hands.

“This pile of waste is Devotek,” Knash sneered, “A valued Sith champion until he botched an important mission and caused a thousand Imperial deaths.” He spat on the disgraced man in disgust, “Now look at him.”

“I served faithfully for twenty-four years then one mistake and they threw me away,” Said Devotek, tone once again pleading, “Now I have been left here to rot. Please, let me feel the weight of a weapon once more.”

The simple fact she knew nothing about the man, who his friends were, how many of his connections as a Sith champion were influential or not at all, had Aindri take a pause. One should always know who one is killing. Executing the him, rather than ending him with dignity might bring Aindri enemies she did not need and so her choice was simple.

Taking the vibrosword from the rack, she nodded for Knash to open the cell. The trial of combat was as much of a death sentence as execution but more glorified. A death other’s would take not of and possibly appreciate, in return remembering her in a fond light. People could be useful in death; it was all a matter of how they died.

“This should be entertaining.” Knash mused.

He opened the cell door and Aindri tossed Devotek the blade then drew her own, warblade humming in excitement at the prospect of fresh blood as she adopted a low guarded stance.

“My thanks, young warrior,” Said Devotek, gripping the blade’s hilt.

He raised the vibrosword and brought the blade down hard. But languishing in the jails had robbed his strike of whatever power and speed it once had. Compared to Rance, whose blows had more than once threatened to crack her skull, this was nothing.

Spinning away, Aindri reserved her blade and thrust up through Devotek’s neck.

Death was instantaneous and Knash gulped at how fast and the Acolyte had downed the former champion. She was far and above any he had seen in the Academy and the jailer then knew why Tremel had picked her.

“Well he didn’t put up much of a fight.”

Removing her blade, body slumping to the floor, Aindri sheathed it and turned to the Neimoidian who sat fidgeting on the floor, “And he final criminal?”

“This one’s a bit of a puzzle,” Knash admitted to her, “He’s called Brehg, a jittery little wretch. Suspected of supplying forged documents to Republic agents. Strangely enough, he maintains his innocence.” He shrugged at her look, “Despite being severely tortured.”

Brehg scrambled to the bars, pressing his hands against them, eyes pleading mercy, “That’s because I’m innocent I am! Believe me, you gotta! I had nothing to do with forging no papers. Set up, I was set up!”

“Evidence is circumstantial,” Said Knash, rubbing his chin, “There is a chance he didn’t do it.”

Aindri regarded the Neimoidian, the Force whispering a warning in her ear. There was something off about the alien, his light was tainted, and concealed by thick smoke. He was hiding something and even if Brehg was not, who would frame him? And why him?

She did not necessarily care but such information could potentially be useful for someone else. There was, however, more to the Neimoidian than meet the eye, Aindri could say that much. Having seen the inside of the Academy, he would never be leaving Korriban anyway.

“Send him to the Inquisitors. If nothing comes from it, execute him.”

Panic alighting in his eyes, Brehg begged and pleaded for his release, but Aindri held firm to her decision. Scowling at the noise Knash banged on the shield, sending him sprawling to the floor.

“Shut up, you fidgety fool, the decision’s been made.” Knash ordered, shooting the alien a look of disgust as Brehg curled up on the floor of his cell whimpering, “You’re an interesting one kid,” He admitted turning back to her, “I can see why people are keeping tabs on you. Head back to Overseer Tremel and see what he thinks of your choices.”

As she left, Aindri could hear Knash and the Twi’lek resume their verbal sparring, inevitably followed by a yelp of pain. The jailer was going to make her life a living hell while she was in his care and she thought it shame such a spirited individual would likely perish in the jails.

Climbing the stairs, Aindri left the jails and its oppressive atmosphere behind, inclining her head in greeting to the acolytes she knew when they passed. Since the first day she had made a small circle of allies with Tormi and Venitas at its centre.

Through them she roughly knew of Vemrin’s movements, their rivalry having only grown since their first and second encounters; the one that morning was their fourth. It was because of this, she knew Vemrin only had one more trial before facing the one that would make him Sith and why Tremel was accelerating her trials.

Nearing the Overseer’s chambers, Aindri arched a brow at the impatience and frustration, radiating through the Force. A muffled voice she did not recognise floated into the hall, its owner likely the reason for his irritation. The door slid open at her approach and Tremel barked a harsh order from within.

“Then run back to your master in the beast pens before I cut you in half.”

Tremel pinched his nose, releasing a sigh of frustration and looked up to see his acolyte waiting just outside the door and waved her in. He stood with a small groan as he stretched his muscles, the price of getting old.

“Sorry to make you wait acolyte, these interruptions are incredibly annoying.” Letting out a breath, he picked his datapad from where he had viewed her trial, “Now, your test in the jails. I’ve reviewed your interrogations. The assassin, Solentz – you assigned her to Imperial Intelligence. I commend you that was excellent thinking, never, waste a potential resource.”

“It was obvious.” Aindri shrugged.

Though whether Intelligence would find a use for the woman remained to be seen. Solentz may have harped about not working for free but she suspected staying alive would be enough. Imperial Intelligence would either shape her or kill her and hide the body.

“Obvious to you, but not too many who came before you,” Tremel replied with some amusement before turning serious, “Now Devotek, the failed warrior. Why grant his wish for trial by combat?”

Aindri considered her answer briefly, doubting Tremel would approve of her true reason regardless of the sound logic behind it. Besides she did deal with the condemned champion, so the Overseer could hardly log a complainant of her decision.

“I wanted to see for myself if he had any worth.”

It was a half-truth, even though the chance was low had Devotek managed to defeat her, then Aindri would have found some use for him. His real-world experience as a Sith champion would have made him a half-decent combat instructor if nothing else.

“That holds some merit,” Conceded Tremel, noting Acolyte Hallow was thorough if nothing else, “But it should have been obvious he was far past any use.” He regarded her with a stern look, “Once something is no longer useful it should be eradicated, remember that.”

That, she mused, was a matter of perspective, but Aindri held her tongue. She was clearly thinking from multiple angles and it was hardly her problem Tremel failed to do so. Instead, Aindri simply inclined her head in acknowledgement of the reprimand.

“Lastly, the forger,” He said delicately, mouth curling into a sneer, “You sent back for more torture even though he seemed innocent. A strong decision, leave no stone unturned.”

Finally, Aindri allowed a minute knowing smile to slip onto her face. One of the first lessons drilled into her head was thinking of the bigger picture. Being decisive, acting with purpose, emphasised to her since she was young.

_The ripple from even a tiny stone can flow a great distance._

Wise _’Ari_ may be, but he could also be irritatingly cryptic and had taken Aindri a while to learn the lesson behind that particular riddle of his and even longer to put it into practice.

Tremel hummed in approval, “Each time, each prisoner, you made the best possible decision. You may yet be able to challenge Vemrin for Darth Bara’s attention. But there’s more that must be done before we expose you to Baras. Before you can impress him.”

Obviously, thought Aindri, wanting to roll her eyes but refraining from doing so. Darth’s do not ‘impress’ easily, only after repeated validation of ability and consistent performance beyond baseline expectations.

Tremel leaned back against the desk, tapping its surface in thought.

“Because I forced you into the Academy ahead of schedule, Darth Baras will be predisposed to judging you severely. And by ‘severely’ I mean fatally.”

Aindri supressed a snort at the blaringly obvious statement. It was a natural a Darth would be judgemental in choosing an apprentice. The whole idea behind coming to Korriban for the Trials was the stamp of Sith training rather than private tutelage.

You came to Korriban to become a Sith or you came to Korriban to die, fatal was a given.

“Go, train and grow stronger. It will take time to find something will truly test your abilities.”

Leaving at the dismissal, Aindri ran a hand through her hair as her thoughts stayed on the pressing issue of the game of Sith politics she had been embroiled in. It may have been part of the Sith way to play games of power to put oneself ahead of others but while others revelled in doing so, she herself did not have to like it.

Still, even if you did not actively participate being aware was important to avoid drowning.

Tremel sought to insert herself into Baras’s service, though ingratiate may be the more apt term, and take the lustre from having ‘trained’ such a powerful apprentice. But it was a foolish plan, any Darth would little patience with an Overseer interfering in their business.

Sooner or later, and she would bank on sooner, all of this would get back to Darth Baras and when it did, he would make one of two moves. He would either kill her and Tremel or destroy Tremel and keep her, maybe even make Aindri do the destroying. It depended on how wasteful the Darth’s mindset was, choosing to destroy her out of spite.

Sighing, Aindri headed to find a secluded spot to meditate on recent events and the future.


	4. Beasts of the Sith

A clash of steel resounded as a light skinned acolyte with brow hair brought her blade down savagely, her opponent rapidly bringing his own up to block. The Acolyte fighting was one of those Aindri had hoped to avoid or miss altogether but had, unfortunately, been pitted against multiple times in the sparring ring.

Thana Vesh.

Favouring the form Ataru like always, Vesh had assumed Form IV’s opening stance and the moment the words left Overseer Rance’s lips, launched into a series of lightning fast attacks.

Her opponent had to forgo the usual ridiculous flourish most Form II practitioners favoured in his hurry to defend. Vesh pushed the male Acolyte with brutal ferocity, the fluid elegance of Makashi falling away to movements jerky with panic.

In her peripheral vision, an Acolyte winced as Vesh dealt a savage blow to the other’ ribs.

Watching the duel, noting each of their strengths and weaknesses, it seemed Vesh changed little since Aindri last saw her two years ago. Good, but rough around the edges, she still allowed her brashness and explosive temper to rule her actions whenever her opponent got hits in. Her attacks still got sloppier the more she fell for her opponents’ taunts.

Aindri still remembered the various incidents caused by the older Acolyte. Murdering eight family guards, brutalising them to the point they looked barely human when discovered mangled in the hall by a servant. Razing an entire city block to the ground when her parents tried to exercise some control over their daughter.

She disliked the woman for the simple reason Vesh believed her abilities and status as a would be Sith and her families wealth meant she was entitled to everything she desired.

Too much power, too little self-control, it was exactly what _’Ari_ wanted to avoid with her.

Vesh bashed away her opponents’ blade and delivered a vicious strike to his head, a loud crack echoing throughout the arena. The other Acolyte teetered on their feet before collapsing to the ground, Vesh grinning savagely and delivering a swift kick their stomach.

“Well done Acolyte Vesh, but you still need to work on your defences. He landed a couple of hits when he shouldn’t have,” Said Rance, then pointed to the acolyte lying unconscious on the floor and glaring at another two, “Now someone get this piece of trash out of my sight.”

They scurried onto the stage and dragged away the defeated Acolyte, to the medical ward.

“Acolyte Hallow, you’re up.” He called pointing at her, raising a brow at her choice of form when she adopted Soresu’s open stance as she took her place opposite Vesh, “Begin.”

Like the first bout, Vesh charged, swinging her warblade at Aindri’s neck.

Blocking the first strike with ease, Aindri allowed the other to press her advantage and led her in dance of steel, parrying and swaying away from strikes. Failing to meet flesh, Vesh’s rage built until the Force started to simmer around her. The calmness with which Aindri had defended against her attacks becoming a red flag to a bull.

Locking blades, their eyes met, and she could see pure fury in the other’s eyes; it was time.

Snarling, Vesh disengaged too quickly and lunged at her wildly. Sidestepping the blow, Aindri suck out her foot. Vesh who was already off balance by the lack of solid resistance fell face first to the ground. Pushing down on the others Acolytes’ back with her heel, Aindri pressed the tip of her warblade against Vesh’s neck.

“Winner, Acolyte Hallow,” Rance called, giving her nod of approval, “An excellent display of lightsaber combat.” He turned to Thana who had sat up with a furious expression on her face, “As for you Acolyte Vesh, Hallow had complete control of the fight. She was leading you on from the start and you didn’t even notice!”

Rance shook his head in disappointment before calling up another acolyte to the stage.

“I’ll get you back for this.” Vesh hissed, storming off the stage.

Ignoring the threat, she mirrored the other acolyte as he took up Makashi’s single low-handed guard. His thumb pointed down the length of his blade for smaller, tighter, more accurate movements of the blade.

The younger Acolyte ignored Vesh’s hate filled gaze focused on her back.

Four matches later and Aindri was wiping her brow with a damp cloth when a chime from her datapad grabbed her attention. There was a message from Tremel requesting her presence in his chambers and she subtle signalled to Venitas and Tormi who signalled back.

She strode through the halls and when she reached the Overseer’s rooms contemplated knocking but instead went straight through. Aindri arched a brow when she found him staring at an ancient map written on parchment.

Tremel eyed a map of the Korribanian Wilds spread out across his desk, tapping his fingers absently against cold metal. It was located just beyond Dreshdae, the settlement seen as Korriban’s capital, and was one of many uninhabited areas scattered across the world.

Regardless of its proximity to civilisation, he had chosen the place specifically for the site of Hallows next Trial due to the difficulty of the tombs there. The beasts born of experiments done by the ancients themselves were only part of the challenge given the reports.

Hesitation briefly crossed his mind, there was every chance he was sending Hallow to her death. But then her thus far unbeaten sparring record against the likes of Vesh, one of the more promising Acolytes to grace the Academy halls, showed she was more than ready.

Besides, if she failed then Hallow simply wasn’t strong enough; he doubted that’d happen.

Speaking of Hallow, her presence in the Force danced along the edge of his senses long before he saw her. Tremel looked up as the door hissed open and rose from his seat as she strode through the door. Grains of sand and grit were stuck to red and grey duelling leathers suggesting she had come straight from the sparring practice in the arena.

“You’re here, good.” Tremel said in approval, she had come quickly.

“Overseer,” She greeted, “It seemed, urgent, for you to call so late in the day.”

“Indeed, we must move on without delay. With every moment that passes we risk discovery before we are ready,” He replied, indicating her to come around his desk for a better view of the map showcasing the Lower Wilds, “For your next Trial, you are to go to the Wilds and enter the Tomb of Marka Ragnos to slay the beast left to guard his legacy.”

She arched a brow, “That is outside of the Valley of the Dark Lords.”

“You will first need to take a speeder to Dreshdae and then travel on foot to the Wild’s Laboratory,” Tremel explained with a nod, specifying a camp a place on the map, contours denoting a massive cliff, “From there you will enter and sit amongst the flames. The beast will come to you. Do not underestimate it, defeating this creature will take your best effort.”

“Rest assured I will not, Overseer,” Aindri hummed in response while studying the map, planning the route in her head, “I will depart for the Wilds at first light.”

Studying her a moment, Tremel nodded and rose to his full height “I’ll next see you when the beast is slain, good luck.”

Inclining her head, Aindri left the Overseer’s chambers, running through a mental checklist of what she would need the next couple of days. The Trial itself would not take her long, a couple of hours at most, but travelling would take her a day or two at least.

Retiring early that night so she was well rested, the Acolyte fell asleep surprisingly easily.

* * *

Aindri stood atop the Academy’s front steps, Horuset’s first rays highlighting her figure, backpack hanging from her left shoulder. In the bag where a clean set of clothes and water, non-perishable foodstuffs and medical supplies she had retrieved from the quartermaster.

Walking down them, Aindri headed for the taxi pad where her requisitioned speeder awaited, nodding in greeting to another early riser, Inquisitor Arzanon, as she passed. She had met the man and helped him eliminate traitors in the Valley of the Dark Lords, the commendation given in recognition of her service clipped to the inside of her robes.

Swinging a leg over the speeder, she revved its engines and swung the nose south.

Korriban’s rocky scenery flew past her as she accelerated, taking joy in the simple delight in the gruttle purr of the engine vibrating up through her bones. The wind slicing through her clothes and ruffling her crimson hair. In the distance she could just make out Dreshdae’s outline and slowed as she neared the settlement before turning into the main thoroughfare.

She gave the cantina The Drunk Side, a hotbed of criminal activity, a wide berth. Instead she parked outside the Dreshdae Military Outpost and dismounted, giving the speeder over to the Imperial officers there who would see to its return to the Academy.

There she caught snippets of conversations from soldiers preparing for deployment.

“We really going in there are we, Sir?” One of the soldiers asked nervously, “Only, the last few squads that entered the tombs in the Wilds never came back.”

“We have our orders, Private, ours is not to question but to obey.”

“But they say the tombs drive people who aren’t Force sensitive insane.” The private protested as his fellow trooper removed a tube from a crate, “I’ve heard the other squads are still down there, howling mad and killing each other.”

“Those men didn’t have proper protection,” Reassured the higher ranked soldier, “Lord Renning has assured me that these new stimulants will protect us from the tombs protect.”

“That’s what they said about the aural bands. And the implants…”

Their voices trailed off as Aindri left for Dreshdae’s streets, turning her focus inwards to check her mental shields as she neared the outer walls. She was more than aware of the rumours surrounding the Wild’s tombs, even though Acolytes know the contents of intelligence reports was discouraged it wasn’t forbidden. As such she wanted to make

Their voices trailed off as Aindri stepped onto Dreshdae’s streets with a small frown on her features. Briefly closing her eyes, she turned her focus inwards to check her mental shields as she neared the settlement’s outer walls.

She was more than aware of the rumours surrounding the Wild’s tombs and even though Acolytes did not have direct access to the contents of military reports, they still had ways.

Therefore, it was important her shields were strong before entering the tomb’s vicinities.

The area immediately outside the walls was littered with abandoned mining equipment, Aindri paying them little attention as she walked. A strong wind whipped across the open desert sending gusts of sand up into the air. She turned up her collar and re-donned the goggles she wore to protect her eyes on the speeder.

It took her a good few hours to trek across the dunes, shifting sands making it difficult to find and keep her foot, before Aindri reached the ravine linking the Upper and Lower Wilds.

The tall cliffs shadowed the ravine floor, blocking out Horuset’s harsh rays and Aindri shivered at the sudden temperature drop. She checked her chrono and map, the laboratory still several klicks away, and decided to take a break since she was on schedule. There were still some hours of daylight left, at her current pace she’d easily reach the lab before dusk.

Setting down her back, she sat on the hard-packed sand with her back against the steep cliff to prevent an ambush from behind by predators. Rummaging through the pack, Aindri withdrew a ration bar and tilted her head back to stare at the sky, chewing thoughtfully.

A long howl resounded throughout the ravine and Aindri snapped her head to the left, eyes narrowing. Reaching out with her senses she found several life signs approaching her position. Finishing the bar, she drew her warblade and held it ready.

From the shadows of the tall cliff, a pack of hound like creatures snapped and growled at her, mattered black fur hiding muscles bunched together beneath taught skin; Tuk’ata.

A loud growl came from Tuk’ata nearest to her standing low to the ground, razor sharp teeth bared, and hackles risen as it pawed at the sand. The Tuk’ata pounced and Aindri ducked and stabbed its belly only to have to raise her arm when grunt another jumped to attack her right side.

She hissed in pain, biting back a scream as the beast’s jaws ripped through leather.

Gritting her teeth, she pierced the Tuk’ata’s neck with her blade and kicked hard at another’s stomach. Springing backwards, landing in a crouch, she thrusted out her palm, a blast of Force energy slamming into the back and sending them hurtling backwards.

Two Tuk’ata smashed into the rocks, falling to the ground twitching before falling still. Her attack with an unseen force caused the remaining Tuk’ata to step back and eye her warily.

Breathing heavily, she snarled, her anger building, and stepped forward, Tuk’ata scrambling backwards as they sensed her rage. She roared, loud and feral, watching as the Tuk’ata yelped and ran away to scrabble up the cliffs.

Anger draining away, Aindri fell back to cradle her arm, adrenalin fading, “ _Asilas!_ Stupid, stupid, stupid, idiot.”

She was a fool to have let her guard down and allow the Tuk’ata to injure her, she could hear _’Ari_ scolding her in her mind. Aindri glanced down at her bloodied arm, biting back the pain as she examined the ripped leather which obscured the wound.

It would have to be removed before she could assess and treat the any damage.

Jaw locked, Aindri grabbed the top of the gauntlet and yanked, sucking in air through clenched teeth. Hissing, she grabbed a flask from her bag and poured water onto the wound, doing her best to wash out the sand and blood.

Wound clean, Aindri brought it up to eye level, relieved to see it wasn’t too deep, most bites force absorbed by the tough leather. Still, she wouldn’t be surprised if it left a scar. Bringing out a medpac, she gently rubbed the kolto paste into the wound before wrapping it in bandages, tying them tightly to staunch blood flow.

Satisfied that her administrations would last until she reached the lab, Aindri pulled on a spare gauntlet and pushed herself to her feet to continue trudging through the ravine. As she did, Aindri made sure to continuously scan the environment for danger.

Within mere hours, she left the shadows of the ravine to stand atop a large hill.

From her position, Aindri could make out the occasional ruin rising from the sand, rock carved tombs standing tall and proud in the distance. Below her, protected by a massive durasteel wall at its front and a rugged cliff face at its back, was the Wilds Laboratory. A semi-permeant camp with troopers, researchers and Sith bustling about inside.

Slipping and sliding down the hill, Aindri entered with about an hour of daylight left and headed straight for the medical tent. She knew the extent her emergency treatment would prevent infection was limited.

After her arm had been treated and eaten dinner, Aindri explored the camp. A significant chunk was devoted to its namesake, an open-air laboratory littered with dissection tables and cages housing various specimens of Korribanian fauna. The rest was a jumble of tents haphazardly erected wherever there was space.

In the central area, she came across a Sith Lord, judging from his fine robes, standing over a table, chubby hands deep inside a dissected Tuk’ata, individual organs laid out on the table.

“A fresh young acolyte, come to view my experiments? Good,” The portly Sith removed his hands from the beasts’ insides, stripping off his gloves and throwing them in the bin before going to rinse his hands, “I trust the sight of a messy operating table doesn’t disturb you?”

Aindri stepped closer to the table, tugging on one of the sterile gloves and lifted one of the organs, holding it up to her eye so she could examine it more closely. The Sith smirked, throwing out his arm to gesture at the specimen.

“On the surface, this Tuk’ata is nothing special. But I alone can see it. The Force is alive, and it expresses it’s will in the physical world. This creature was one such form. An expression of pure dark-side energy, aggression made manifest.”

Placing the organ back, Aindri arched a brow, “And we are another of these forms.”

“Sith are the highest manifestations of the Force’s will.” He affirmed, smiling haughtily, “I’ve dissected hundreds of Tuk’ata, forging a direct connection to the dark side. Each beast I examine advances me towards perfect unity.”

Yet Aindri felt was anger not pride; something she’d expect with such a ‘breakthrough’.

“I now stand at a new frontier but find myself thwarted,” The older Sith said bitterly, answering her unspoken questions, “My most perfect specimen – a Tuk’ata mutant - escaped to the tombs before I could analyse it.”

“I could recover your specimen.” She offered.

Having a Sith Lord owing her a favour could be beneficial in the future.

He examined her for a moment before nodding, “My apprentice Malora saw which tomb the mutant beast fled into. Find out what she knows, assist me, and you will be rewarded.”

“I’ll speak to your apprentice and retrieve your Tuk’ata brain when I head into the tombs.”

“You found a great calling in my service. I trust you appreciate that.”

Leaving him to his research Aindri looked up at the gradually darkening skies, clouds just obscuring Korriban’s blood reds moons as they climbed higher above the horizon. She approached the wall surrounding the laboratory and drew on the Force to jump up, landing gracefully on the walkway above.

Peering into the distance, she searched until she found the Tomb of Marka Ragnos, nestled in a row of cliffs. Aindri measured the distance, calculating roughly how long it would take to travel to and back from the tomb. Returning to the camp, she elected to find Malora in the morning, having no desire to hunt a Tuk’ata in the dark.

* * *

The next morning, Aindri weaved through the rickety tables of the mess tent, her eyes focused on a fair skinned woman, black hair pinned up behind her head. A trooper identified as the apprentice of Lord Renning, the Sith running the laboratory and the one whose Tuk’ata specimen had escaped.

“What do you want?” Malora asked irritably abandoning her half-eaten breakfast.

“Tuk’ata.” Aindri replied, starting her own breakfast.

“Seeking Lord Renning’s lost pet are you,” Malora snorted inelegantly, waving a dismissive hand, “Don’t waste your time the fool’s research is pointless.”

“Do you wish to retrieve?” She asked and continued when Malora stayed silent, “It is a deadly beast, not some harmless vermin.”

“That may be, but you still risk your life for nothing,” Malora grumbled, tone dripping with ill hidden bitterness, “Renning deludes the Dark Council into believing he’s advancing Sith knowledge.” Her snort showed how much stock he placed in that line of thought, “The truth is he wastes the Empire’s time and resources dissecting mindless animals.”

“What the Dark Council believes is their business,” Aindri replied.

“But if his experiments were discredited, he would be banished, and rewarded,” She said lightly and casting a quick glance around the tables, lowered her voice, “Look, just a minor alteration to the mutant Tuk’ata’s brain would allow me to reveal my master as a fraud. If you bring me the brain before delivering it to Lord Renning, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Aindri swallowed the last of her food and brought up a map of the lower wilds, “I will not be dragged into your schemes Malora. If you want to challenge your master do so yourself.”

Malora scowled, stabbing her remaining food, and Aindri gave her an expectant look.

“The mutant Tuk’ata escaped Marka Ragnos’s tomb,” Relented the Apprentice, still glaring daggers as she pointed to an area on the map near the main entrance to Ragnos’ tomb, “It’s much larger than the others, so you should spot it easily.”

Leaving Malora to brood, Aindri returned to her commandeered tent to grab her gear, having woken up at dawn to ready herself, and walked towards the camps entrance. She turned her wrist, clenching and unclenching her fist, pleased how her injury had healed. A combination of her naturally fast healing process, bacta, the Force and a goodnights sleep.

Whilst the muscle still ached, it wouldn’t be a problem during her trial.

Stopping by the durasteel wall, Aindri surveyed the sands, making an alteration to the calculations she had made last night reckoning travel would take less than half the day. Research materials from the laboratory were transported back to the Academy via shuttle so if Aindri was quick, she would be back by nightfall.

With little time to lose, Aindri began hiking across the sands and it was an hour later when she came upon the first ruin, a shattered pillar engraved with ancient Sith scrip worn away by time until it was barely legible. The dark sides’ presence was stronger there than it had been at the laboratory.

Aindri paused to reinforce her mental barriers, shielding her mind from whispering voices.

Her shields strengthened she opened her eyes and started coughing, sand irritating the back of her throat. Ignoring the discomfort, she took a quick swig from the water flask attached to her belt. Continuing her journey through the ruins, Aindri cut a path through knots of soldiers been driven mad by the sheer strength of the darkness.

It was two hours of walking and carving a swathe through groups of psychotic troops, before Aindri reached the entrance sculpted into the rocky cliff face. It towered over sand and ruins, carvings of ancient Sith protection symbols etched into the walls.

She stepped inside, finding abandoned excavation equipment in several chambers. There were more symbols engraved on the interior walls, writing describing the various parts of Marka Ragnos’s life covering almost any free space. It made her recall the same history they were taught at the Academy....

* * *

_Aindri sat in large lecture hall flipping through the class materials on her datapad, only half listening as Assistant Overseer Markan lectured about ancient Sith Lords. Tormi sat next to her looking bored and Marken shot her a look of disdain when she gave an exaggerated yawn._

_“Ajunta Pall,” He bit out, sweeping his gaze over the acolytes, “Was the first to have held the title of Dark Lord of the Sith. Known for his ability to shape and create life through the Force, the Jedi, being the fools, they are, condemned his actions and suppressed his teachings. In an act of defiance, he fought against the Jedi leading to the Hundred-Year Darkness and upon his defeat, was exiled to the Outer Rim, where they discovered Korriban and the Sith,” He inclined his head towards Ffon who looked on smugly, “Who revered Ajunta Pall and his fellow exiles as gods.”_

_“Ah, to be venerated as a god by legions of minions.” Tormi sighed dreamily, eyes glazed._

_“Constantly being surrounded by sycophants would be irritating.” Aindri replied._

_“And that is where we differ my friend, for I could imagine nothing better.”_

_Aindri hummed in response, glancing up to see Markan glowering at them._

_Specifically, Tormi._

_“Pay attention, Acolyte,” Marken spat, “Or you will be punished.”_

_Tormi gave the assistant overseer an overly sweet smile and he growled at her. Marken was one of those who, like Tremel, could often be heard complaining of what he deemed was the increasingly lax standards regarding admission to the Academy. She had listened to more than one verbal sparring match between him and the Twi’lek._

_“And to think these sacred halls is being desecrated by aliens and slaves.”_

_A mixture of scowls and smirks broke out across the room, Vemrin and Ffon unsurprisingly among them, at Markens words. Aindri glanced sidewise to see Tormi’s smile slip slightly. Nudging the Twi’leks shoulder, she gave Tormi a small shake of her head, it wasn’t worth it._

_Her companion released a small sigh but nodded and sat up looking attentive, thought Aindri could still sense Tormi’s loathing simmering beneath her skin when Marken smirked at her._

_“Tulak Hord, was another early Dark Lord. Yn and Chabosh, his two greatest achievements.”_

_Memories of listening to her mother reading her stories of those famous battles flashed through her mind. Those nights were one of the only good memories Aindri had of the woman who contributed half of the genetics to her birth._

_“It is believed hundreds of worlds were conquered by Hord, and his seizure of the Dromund System played a significant part in Dromund Kass becoming our current capital. While most records from that era were unfortunately lost in the Great Hyperspace War, this hasn’t stopped generations of Sith from unearthing his teachings and artefacts.”_

_Aindri felt interest stir in Tormi at the word ‘artefact’, her signature flaring before being tempered as the Twi’lek Acolyte adopted her custom mask of indifference and boredom._

_“Hord’s mask was found by Revan during his search for the Star Forge. His lightsaber discovered by Darth Marr on Dromund Fels before his ascension to the Dark Council.”_

_Many sat up at the mention of dark councillor legendary for his reputation as the Defender of the Empire, a Sith who dealt defeat after defeat to the Republic forces. He was one of the few Sith she immediately respected and he and ‘Ari would occasionally conduct business._

_“Hord’s successor was Marka Ragnos, eliminating his competitors through quick and ruthless campaigns. Strength, power and penchant for strategy became hallmarks of his rule and allowed him to hold the title for over a century due to showing a great level of strategic discipline. It was also this strategic discipline that stopped him from waging war against both the Jedi and the Republic, despite knowing of their existence. Why?”_

_Silence descended as acolytes looked at each uncertainly and Markan grew increasingly annoyed with each passing second. She glanced at Tormi, who could’ve easily answered with her already extensive knowledge of Sith history. But she was content to let Markan stew and the pleasure at Ffon’s inability to answer was clear on the Twi’lek’s face._

_Aindri sighed quietly and placed her datapad on the desk before answering, raising her voice so she could be heard throughout the room, “The Empire wasn’t ready. He knew they needed to focus on gathering strength before confronting the Republic. If, at that time, Empire’s and Republic forces clashed, the Empire would not survive.”_

_“Naga Sadow attacked the Republic.” Tormi pointed out._

_“And look at the result. Sadow was too ambitious, too impatient,” She replied, sparing a glance at Tormi, “Had he followed Marka Ragnos’s example, waited until the Empire was truly ready, the Hyperspace War wouldn’t have been lost.” The Twi’lek inclined her head in acceptance and Aindri turned to Marken, “His overconfidence was his downfall.”_

_Marken nodded at her in approval, “You are correct, Acolyte. Despite the Empires initial successes, the Republic far outmatched us in numbers and firepower. Once the Republic realised this they regrouped and pushed Sadow’s forces back to Koros. When he retreated after failing to invade Republic space, the Republic followed him, which resulted in the loss of Korriban.”_

_Several of the acolytes growled in anger at the thought of Republic ships even being in the same system, much less in orbit above Korriban itself. Tormi looked indifferent, but then Aindri supposed that was to be expected._

_After all, the Empire, current and ancient, was built on the backs of ‘lesser species’._

_“Did Sadow die on Korriban?” Asked an acolyte sitting in front of her, voice venomous._

_“No one is entirely sure, but the most commonly held belief among historians is that Sadow sought refuge and later died on Yavin Four.” Markan checked his chrono, “Tomorrow we’ll be going more in depth into lead up to the Great Hyperspace War before moving onto the war itself.” He paused and met their eyes, “I expect you all to be prepared.”_

* * *

Venturing deeper, Aindri pushed the lesson to the back of her mind as she fought rival acolytes and those cast out of the academy, seeking a second chance at power. She found Renning’s beast in an antechamber in the western wing, gutting and using chunks of K’lor’slug as bait.

The fight was an interesting challenge, having to hold back against a beast twice the size of a normal Tuk’ata to make sure the brain wouldn’t get damaged. She was careful when removing the brain and placing it in the specimen case, cushioning it with the previous days clothes to avoid jostling it and its contents.

She climbed over the rubble and through the gap the beast charged through. She had wanted to use the passageway to get deeper into the tomb, but it was blocked by large rocks and collapsed columns forcing her to turn back.

Only after passing through several large chambers, skirting the walls to avoid further clashes, she came across a corridor which was much colder than the others. The Dark Side was more oppressive, pushing against her mental barriers.

But her shields held, and she came to a flight of stairs leading to another chamber. It was a half circle in shape and with a high vaulted ceiling, lit only by a single shaft of sunlight through a hole in the roof. Shrouded in shadow, hooded statues hugged its walls, spaced at even intervals they flanked stone alters adorned by skulls of various skeletal structures.

Descending the stairs, Aindri lifted her foot when she heard a crunching sound and looked down to find a white object snapped in half. It was only when casting her eyes to the rest of the chamber she realised it was bone.

Whole skeletons among individual bones, some human others not, littered the floor. Some were brittle and cracked, others smooth. Aindri crouched and picked up a piece, inspecting the deep gouges on its surface. The bones didn’t surprise her, that the beast was still alive suggested not many people had been sent to kill it and those who did died horrible.

Rising, she dropped the piece and crossed the chamber to the stone tablet and the six braziers flanking the object. Peering in, Aindri found them filled with an unidentifiable liquid and Tremel’s words of sitting amongst the flames sprung to her mind.

She withdrew a light from her belt and held it against the liquid surface, rapidly withdrew her hand when purple flames flickered to life, casting an eerie glow across the tablet. Aindri lit the rest and sunk into seiza, breathing deep and steady as she tapped into the Force.

It started as a ripple in the Force, lapping against the edge of her senses, a rattle dancing like drumming fingers. There was the distinct feeling of being stalked like prey. The ground beneath her shook when an auditory rumble echoed from deep within the tomb.

Eyes opening, Aindri rose to her feet, pins and needles tickling at her calves. She turned and drew her warblade, raising it in defence. Grey eyes examined the room, placing everything in her mind so she would not trip on anything once the fight began.

The chamber fell still, dead air coiling with the pervasive feeling of being tracked.

Then the statue and sarcophagus at the back of the chamber exploded outward together with the wall in a shower of dust and debris, a bulky shadow breaking through the stone.

Once the cloud of dust died down, Aindri stood facing the Beast of Marka Ragnos.

Easily thrice her size, it towered over her, large spines scraping against the walls. Absently Aindri recognised it as a Terentatek, a beast descended from Rancors experimented on by early Sith, a product of Sith alchemy. But the dark energies, pure malice and intense hunger marked the creature as something special, something she scarcely believed still existed.

She thought they had all gone extinct, hunted down to the last by the Jedi.

“Sithspawn.”

She tensed, the beast whipping round its head to stare in her direction at her voice. Aindri eyed its massive claws warily, more than aware of the toxic venom they and the tusks exuded. The beast fixed its eyes on her and sniffed then let out an earth-shattering roar.

Aindri jumped and rolled to the side, admittedly off-balance at seeing her own trick of hitting a foe hard and fast before they realised what was going on, thrown back at her.

With the Force, she sent a blast of telekinetic energy slamming into the beast.

Force-resistant Aindri noted when her attack didn’t move Ragnos’s beast an inch. Unlike most Sith, however, she was not prone to showing off through major displays of power. In fact, she put effort into giving the outward appearance of having little affinity for active use.

The passive skills, enhanced physical capabilities, projecting an intimidating presence and sense for danger, absolutely, but the pushes and pulls or the lightning? Often It paid to be underestimated.

Then shock when an opponent realised, she was not so limited was also fun to witness.

But no, the Terentatek’s Force-resistance would not pose too much of an issue. Regardless as a creature of instinct and one which survived, pitted against warrior after warrior, it would be able to sense her true strength in the Force.

It roared in animalistic rage and charged, massive claws raised to crush and maim. Rolling forwards a shower of dust and shards flew into the air when its talon struck stone. Aindri spun on her heel and slashed at its leg, back springing out of its range.

She stayed constantly on the move, ducking and dodging blows, cutting, slashing and stabbing at the beasts hide. Sparks flew where her blade skated across tough chitin armour.

She flipped back, easily avoiding the wild swings of fists, the Sithspawn’s attacks grew increasingly erratic. Its movements were sluggish, weakened by blood loss but her own blade hand started to shake, her injured muscles throbbing and sending dull pain arching up her arm.

Placing distance between them, Aindri watched the beast’s movements carefully, eyes open for any twitch or sign of movement. With adrenaline rushing through her veins, her senses sharpened, and time slowed to a standstill.

Blood roaring in her ears.

Heart thudding heavily in her chest.

Muscles tensing as her boots slid across the stones slickened by blood.

Bones and rubble scattered across the chamber.

The stench of sweat and blood.

Tightening her grip on her blade, time accelerated back to normal and she sprinted.

Sliding underneath the beast, Aindri used her momentum to carry herself forward, launching to her feet behind its back. Pivoting, she leaped with a Force enhanced jump.

Flipping, her boot touched the ceiling as the beast turned and it lifted its head to howl.

There.

She pushed off hard and thrusted her warblade to punch through the creature’s neck, landing on the floor in a crouch with her hand and entire arm drenched in Sithspawn blood.

The resulting thud of its collapse caused the ground to shudder and she rose on light feet, warblade held in a loose grip, tip scratching the floor. Behind her the beast breathed its last as life left its body. She knew the beast was dead, could see its light snuffed out in the Force.

When Aindri turned, she could physically see the light had also left its eyes.

Tipping her head back, Aindri released a triumphant roar, drinking in the warm afterglow of a well fought battle. It echoed throughout the chamber and she stabbed her blade into the gap between stones to keep her balance as adrenaline drained. Leaning forward, Aindri breathed deeply, dragging long draughts of air into her lungs.

She had felt of course, the effect Ragnos’s beast’s death had, something akin to a large wave slamming against a sea wall. The oppressive darkness saturating the chamber had dissipated until Aindri could no longer hear the whispering voices.

It was that which made her groan more than the exhaustion she felt for there was no chance the whole Academy had not felt the creature’s death. She had suddenly understood why Tremel said every moment would lead to their discovery.

For all his attempts, the Overseer was very bad at subtlety, but Aindri couldn’t do much.

Aindri’s fingers loosened around her blades hilt and she sat heavily on the ground, scrunching her nose in disgust at her blood-stained clothes. Ignoring her throbbing arm, she stripped off her outer tunic and threw it into flames, watching as wet fabric caught alight.

Checking the contents of her flask she used half of what remained of the water to wash the blood from her hair and face. Shaking her head, Aindri re-tied her hair back into a ponytail and stood, picking up and sheathing her warblade.

Aindri’s journey back through the tomb was relatively free of conflict, the amount of blood on her robes dissuading most from approaching her. Exiting the tomb, she shielded her eyes from Horuset’s harsh glare, waiting for her eyesight to readjust. Checking her chrono, she judged she would make her goal of returning to the Academy an hour before nightfall.

When Aindri returned to the laboratory, she headed immediately towards the research area, passing troopers who were loading equipment into a shuttle. She found Renning near the back of the area, elbow deep in a new Tuk’ata corpse, Malora crouched by a cage checking on a K’lor’slug.

Sensing her approach, Renning removed his hands from the Tuk’ata and scowled, “I’m running out of patience. Have you finally acquired the mutant Tuk’ata brain, or should I send someone else?”

Malora looked up from her work, eyes widening at the bloody appearance of the acolyte. The apprentice schooled her expression but was unable to hide the dagger-like stare when Aindri held the specimen case out too Renning.

“Ah ha!” Renning grinned manically, “Wonderful! Let me see it. Look at the mottling along the frontal lobe. I can’t wait to analyse this.” He stared at the brain reverently only snapping out of his reprieve when she placed the case on the table, “You’ve done me a great service, but now I must continue my research. If there’s nothing else?”

Aindri briefly considered whether to enlighten him of his apprentices attempted duplicity, but Malora’s feelings about her master were hardly concealed. In all likelihood Renning already knew. It was, after all, expected of apprentices to betray their master.

Or even vice versa depending on the surrounding circumstances.

With the Lords blessing, Aindri had no issue returning to the Academy on a shuttle, though she drew horrified stares and gulps for her bloodied appearance. While she had burned the tunic, large amounts of the life liquid was still splattered across her pants. Some had also seeped through onto her shirt so Aindri knew she must have made quite a sight.

The battle had exhilarating but close; one misstep and she would have been seriously injured by Marka Ragnos’s beast. Pride had killed many Sith over history and while the best accepted one would get injured and prepared themselves for such an occurrence, none enjoyed going to an infirmary.

Interned in an medbay, others smelled blood in the water. On the other hand, it was better to prove oneself healed and be ready for anything than be attacked due to there being real blood in the water from wounds left untreated. Aindri was personally of the latter belief.

Exiting the transport, Aindri headed into the academy in clothing stiff with drying blood. She took a non-obvious passage through winding corridors, wanting to reach Tremel’s chambers quickly. Those who did spot her openly stared but did not dare speak as she passed.

At one-point Aindri passed a pair of Imperial Guardsman on her trek and rather than ignore her like they did before and to all others, they bowed their heads in her direction. She felt a surge of well-placed pride at receiving such acknowledgement. To have a show of respect from the red robed guards was a great accomplishment, especially for an Acolyte.

But as she entered the corridor leading to Tremel’s chambers, her hand dropped to the hilt of her blade when a pulse of barely restrained resentment and bloodlust flooded the Force.

Loitering at the bottom of the stairs was Dolgis, undoubtedly the disturbance’s source, and she released a frustrated sigh. Aindri was in no mood to deal Vemrin’s minion. She had time to think while on the shuttle and had concluded the Trial, like the interrogation, was meant to be done offworld with something vicious.

Not on Korriban with something both vicious and notorious and the reactions Aindri had received confirmed what she already knew. Everyone had sensed the death of Marka Ragnos’s beast and more importantly, they all knew she was the one to deal the final blow.

She was, therefore, in no mood to deal with her rival’s latest murder attempt that evening.

“Well look who’s here,” Dolgis smirked looking up at her, “Remember me?”

Aindri levelled him a glare. She was tired and didn’t want a fight, no doubt the reason why Vemrin had sent his lapdog to confront her now. She moved to walk past him, glaring even harder when he held up his arm to block her.

“Not so fast, buddy. I put myself in your way. On purpose. Notice anything interesting?”

Did he think her stupid, of course Aindri had noticed the suspiciously empty corridor. It may be late but even this corridor was busy that time of day. If Dolgis was here then Vemrin’s other groupies were likely running interference, keeping other acolytes away.

“No witnesses, and no witnesses means no rules.” Dolgis unclipped his sword and her fingers drummed lightly against her blades hilt as she waited for the other Acolyte to make the first move, “No more shortcuts. No more special treatment. You’re just going to be another dead failure on Korriban.”

“Then you will get a taste of what I’ve held back,” She snarled, pleasant façade falling away.

Dolgis activated his vibrosword with a click and Aindri let him come with a charge and a roar, sword raised. She didn’t bother to draw her blade as she pivoted away from him. Dolgis staggered and whirled around with a growl.

Ducking and dodging his strikes, Aindri stayed within his reach but never let him land a hit. It wasn’t long before Dolgis tired and lunged at her desperately. She rolled her eyes, truly her opponent was both weak and a fool.

Aindri disarmed the brute with a twist of her wrist and whipped in behind him.

His neck burned where the energy whispered against his skin. A warblade, a warblade was against his throat. Dolgis didn’t even see her draw it. Unable to process what happened, he stared down at his empty hands, blinking stupidly.

When Dolgis looked up, meeting stormy grey eyes he gulped.

He hadn’t known when he first met the Acolyte. The one who was apparently meant to take Vemin’s place as the apprentice of Darth Baras. But as the skin of his jugular blackened and blistered Dolgis knew then he was looking in death’s eyes.

“N – No! Hold up, hold up! Look I was wrong.” Dolgis said quickly, frame trembling in terror as the demon’s blade bit at his throat, uncaring if the true alpha monster could feel his terror, “What they’re saying about you… totally true. So… strong. I don’t wanna die!”

“And I do not care.” She replied coldly.

Drawing her blade across the minion’s throat, Aindri severed his carotid artery and jugular vein. The movement was swift and singular, a fine red mist sprayed the walls. Collapsing to his knees, Dolgis sagged onto the floor. He reached out unseeingly for the hilt of his sword, blood slowly draining from his body.

“Slow,” Said Aindri as a wet gurgle escaped his lips and the body stilled, “Even to fall.”

She stepped over Dolgis’s corpse without even a glance. It disgusted her to see a would-be-Sith so oblivious to the idea one could be killed during training. All it took was simply picking the wrong fight with the wrong person on the wrong day.

If begging had not been his last words, had he not been so pathetic, a sniffling weakling desperate to live and to please, eliciting her disgust, Aindri may have used him. But she already had eyes and ears on Vemrin and his followers and so she had no reason to recycle another’s pawn.

Besides she liked, no desired, her subordinates competent and Dolgis certainly was not.

“Acolyte,” Tremel said distractedly from his desk as she entered, staring at his datapad, “I sensed your successful slaying of the beast.” He waved an absent hand, “You are dismissed for tonight. Rest and recover.”

Happy as she was to head for her dorm and take a much-needed shower, Aindri left the overseer’s chambers that night with a barely noticeable furrowed brow. The veil of bloodlust had bled away into desperate fear then lifted when Doglis’s spirit was stripped from his body and with it Aindri had been able to sense Tremel’s unease.

A sigh built in her throat and Aindri pushed it away along with the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. She compartmentalised the overseer’s odd behaviour as something to puzzle over at a later time. Her perceptions told the acolyte she would need to be rested when she confronted the reason and she would not rest worried.

Instead Aindri focused entirely on getting to a shower and the feel of hot water on her skin. She could imagine the Tormi’s reaction to her blood-soaked appearance. The red-haired Acolyte swore the blood seeped through her clothes into her skin.

 

 

 

 


	5. Darth Baras

In his chambers deep within the Academy, Darth Baras steepled his fingers and sat back in his chair, looking thoughtfully at the report before him. He, like many, had felt the tremor in the Force the day before. Already there were reports of soldiers being able to better resist the maddening effects in the vicinity of the Lower Wild tombs.

Rumours abound of its cause and after initial inquiries he had an answer; Aindri Hallow.

The Acolyte’s name rang in his head, distracting him from monotonous astrogation charts, troop and cargo manifests, ship logs and other kinds of paperwork littering his desk.

Baras had known Tremel had brought his own Acolyte to Korriban in the middle of the Trial season out of some misplaced sense of duty towards purity. He allowed it thinking, if nothing else, the newcomer’s presence would provide suitable motivation for his own acolytes out of the fear of being replaced but now....

Turning his chair, Baras tapped his fingers against the armrest in thought and came to a decision. Punching in Tremel’s holo code, his thoughts drifted back to the issue at hand as he waited in patience silence for the overseer to answer.

Word of Hallow’s talents had already spread throughout the Academy and he was aware of the numerous eyes on her, including those of other Dark Lords as well as his own. She was already a person of interest, then she went and slayed a beast which had ended the countless lives of acolytes as well as some full-fledged Sith.

It reminded him somewhat of Tormi Matyar and the fools Darth Thanaton and Overseer Harkun were to ignore the Twi’lek’s potential and to actively alienate her. They would pay for that oversight, but he would not make the same mistake

He kept such individuals close, if only to easily dispose of them if they became a threat.

Bring them into the fold, ingratiate them until they were entangled with no way to escape then exercise them with merciless prejudice. It was a successful method he had employed with countless individuals when they were no longer of use.

Tremel’s ghostly blue image flickered to life and Baras let the silence stretch, regarding the Overseer in his peripheral vision, mask hiding any expression he’d make. To the man’s credit he didn’t fidget despite the nervousness rolling off him.

“(My Lord?)” Tremel ventured.

The man’s voice was steady, but Baras could detect the trepidation beneath the calm.

He let him sweat a moment before speaking “(Tremel, bring your Acolyte too me.)”

A ripple in the Force did and Tremel paled at the forgoing of his title, “(My Lord, I....)”

Baras turned his head, cutting him off before the lie left his lips, “Do _not_ lie to me, Tremel. Did you not think I wouldn’t know of your protégé?” He enquired curtly, more of Tremel’s control slipping as he turned away, “Send them to me, Tremel. Do not make me ask again.”

And both Sith knew it was an order not a request.

“(Yes, of course, My Lord.)” Tremel bowed hurriedly before signing off.

Humming low in his throat, Baras considered how to deal with the errant Overseer. Tremel had far surpassed being an annoyance and it was high time he was dealt with. Perhaps, he could use this situation to his advantage, eliminate both in the same stroke.

Gaze straying back to the datapads littering his desk showing displays and maps of assets throughout the galaxy. Before the interruption, the Darth had been searching for something he could pin down and use to exploits his master and found himself focusing on the astrogation charts.

Brash and temperamental, his master was good in a brawl and not much else. He had planned a tour of imperial planets, installations and fleets along the predicted frontlines should war reignite. The proposed flightpath of his flagship would put it passing close to Quesh in over a years’ time.

An agent of his imbedded in the enemy ranks had a fleet patrol the systems sole trade route. If he were to pass his master at Quesh as he was inspecting the chemical refineries the higher-ranking Darth with his lust for battle could be goaded into a trap.

He made an encrypted note on his datapad with a remainder to hash out the details later.

Years of careful planning were coming to fruition and it made Baras smile. The imprisonment of what remained of his family by the Republic had been a setback, but an agent was already tracking down leads and they would be free soon enough.

Ultimately, regardless of what transpired on Korriban his endgame would not change but he required a pawn strong enough to achieve his goals in the interim. If it would prove to be this unknown acolyte then so be it, and if they died it would only serve to make the one who does become his pawn stronger. Baras simply had to be patient a little longer.

It wasn’t an issue; he had already waited for decades after all.

* * *

 

Aindri watched the charging acolyte with narrowed eyes and side stepped, grabbing his arm, pivoted and slammed her shoulder into his chest. Shifting her centre of gravity, she lifted him cleaning off the ground, flipping the acolyte over her head. The acolyte exhaled forcefully, pushing all the air from his lungs as his back slammed into the ground.

He tried to scramble to his feet but fell back shouting and clutching at a bloody nose.

“Acolyte.”

Looking to the side, she saw Tremel standing at the arenas’ edge, his light muddied by carefully hidden anxiety and resentment. He met her eyes before turning on his heel and stalking away, expecting her to follow.

“My chambers, now.”

Tormi, Venitas absent for a trial, met her eyes from her place in front of a practice dummy, shooting her a questioning look. Shrugging in response, Aindri made her excuses to Rance and collected her things, ducking into the gloomy corridor.

She walked to Tremel’s office at twice the speed of her normal gait, mind racing. She had only returned from the Wilds last night, so he had no reason to call her for a Trial again so soon. To be pulled out of morning training like she had and his feelings in the Force...

Something was wrong, and her mind immediately jumped to Baras.

The Darth was the only person she could think of currently on Korriban who could elicit such a response from the Overseer. Her thoughts were only reinforced when she entered Tremel chambers to find him with his back to her, hands resting on his desk, shoulders slumped.

“We must speak quickly, acolyte, there isn’t much time,” He began, pushing himself from the desk and turned to her, dark bags under his eyes and anxiety etched onto his features, “I may have made a slight…” He paused searching for the right words, “Miscalculation.”

“Miscalculation?” She grimaced; everyone knew Sith who miscalculated didn’t survive long.

Damn it all to the Void; at least she had gone to be early and so was well rested.

Tremel sighed, resting hands on his hips, close to his lightsaber, “The Beast of Marka Ragnos was a great source of dark energy here on Korriban.” He saw her raised brow, “When it was slain, there was a tremor in the Force.”

Aindri could put two and two together, “I know I was there. Darth Baras felt the tremor.”

“He did. Baras is aware of you now.”

She titled her head; did he think it was surprising?

"He demands my presence?"

The Overseer nodded, tone cautious, “Baras is a serious man but a master of deception. Everything he does and says is calculated,” Tremel looked her directly in the eyes and held her gaze, “He will attempt to trip you up, test your true nature and get to the heart of who you are.”

“I can handle Darth Baras’s audience,” Said Aindri, arms folded in the small of her back, the familiar stance grounding, “But, thank you for the warning, Overseer. I will remember.”

And she would, by moving from one circle of power and influence into a higher one, the danger she faced would increase alongside it. But Aindri had on plans of dying and while cautioning her to be careful, Tremel should know she could handle the new development.

Tremel eyed the confident Acolyte before him, wondering if the words he had just spoken were true or not. He had so little time to truly prepare Hallow and the games of the Sith had played out to where his hand was forced.

All his plans had been placed in jeopardy of unravelling.

If that happened, Tremel held no illusion his life, and that of Hallow’s were forfeit. Baras would see to it personally, he knew and Vemrin would climb the ranks of the Sith Order, which would weaken and die a slow death from within. Tremel held no doubts about the future if Baras advanced Sith like Vemrin.

All the man wanted was controllable pets to send off to do his dirty work or die trying.

“Baras is usually the one doing the handling,” Tremel sighed, the lines of his face growing deeper, “We may not speak again, Acolyte, but you’re the best chance of stopping Vemrin.”

It was only her self-control which stopped her lips curling up into a sneer, though they did so mentally. Back to Vemrin again, at least Aindri was finally taking closer steps to removing him from her side like the pesky thorn his presence was.

Something, the only thing, to like about the whole situation.

The timing was not bad at all either. Vemrin, with the loss of Dolgis, would be on edge and unbalanced. She felt no remorse at killing the other’s lacky, for even had Dolgis been better trained he would have amounted to no more than cannon fodder.

In the end he was as much a product of other’s views as he was in never being more than they had perceived him to be. His life ended because he was a slow, dim-witted, fool who had his only attributes being strength and size until he ran up against someone stronger and surer of themselves. His master, Vemrin was the same and that would be his downfall.

From a strategic standpoint, Aindri could see no real problem with how things panned out.

“If you fail, I doubt there will be another strong enough,” Said Tremel, drawing her out of her thoughts and regarding her with a sad smile, “Meet Darth Baras in his chambers and hurry he won’t take kindly to waiting. Good luck.”

Inclining her head to hide her rolling eyes, Aindri turned on her heel and strode from the room to head for the Rancors’ den; there she would rely on her own prowess, not luck.

* * *

The chambers of Darth Baras were both larger and more ornate than Tremel’s own, much like the man himself. Slightly taller than her, Baras was fat, for lack of a better word, dressed in flowing pale blue robes which didn’t do much to hide his rotund figure. Shoulder plates, long and pointed, added to his already considerable bulk.

He was a man powerful enough to be long out of the practice of killing his own foes.

A heavy ornate mask, blank and expressionless, underscored Tremel’s point about being a master of deception, rendering it unnecessary for him to have to school his facial features. She couldn’t even see his eyes, those which often revealed a persons’ thoughts.

Upon further thought, Aindri realised while the mask would protect anything not revealed by tone and body, even body language was garbled by the long robes concealing his form.

The Force clung to him like a shroud, bathing him in darkness and secrecy.

He radiated a dark and cold power.

Aindri leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms as she watched Baras speak to the group of Acolytes gathered in his chambers. To the right of the group, Vemrin stood almost seeming bored which she could at least understand. His weaknesses aside, none of those in the group would be able to stand against the other in a straight-up fight.

They were there because they'd simply survived long enough to put themselves in a position to be killed. Baras obviously did not expect much of them from the contents of what Aindri presumed was meant to be an inspirational/threatening speech to them.

All men, all standing in a loose semi-circle and all listening with rapt attention. A first-hand example of the casual sexism within the Empire. It was something of which Aindri was more than aware.

“Most of you will not return from this endeavour.” Baras intoned offhandedly, “If you die, you will be forgotten. If you give up, you will be killed. Now, out of my sight.”

It was certainly motivational as most of the acolytes hurriedly vacated the room, no doubt eager to please their would-be master or in fear of retribution. Vemrin followed behind them with a lazy gait, talking with another acolyte wearing a gold chest plate.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” The other acolyte confessed.

Vemrin snorted “You should. This is the end of the line for you Klemral, just make sure you stay out of my way.”

Klemral glanced at her curiously and then smirked at Vemrin, “Look here Vemrin, I see the upstart and Dolgis didn’t return yesterday.”

Attention shifting, Vemrin glared at her and growled, his anger deep enough to ripple outwards through the Force. Aindri knew her presence unnerved him, it meant Dolgis had failed. That along seemed to have sent Vemrin near spiralling into a panic, on the verge of losing his cool altogether and she gave him a polite smile with a predatory edge.

Their fight was coming and quickly, it was something they both knew instinctively.

Baras stood and regarded them coolly “Klemral, Vemrin you have been dismissed.”

Klemral bowed jerkily before hurrying from the room, eager to escape the tension building between them between her and Vemrin. The other narrowed his eyes, giving her one last hard glare before following Baras’s instructions and storming out of his chambers.

The subtle smile fell from her face as Aindri schooled her features into neutrality and pushed off from the doorway to approach the desk, taking a knee before the Darth.

"You called for me, my Lord."

"Yes," Darth Baras mused, eyes skating over her form, “Come here.”

Aindri stood, adopting the rest stance typical of the Imperial Military, hands sitting in the small of her back. His gaze lingered briefly on the small cut across her cheek from where a shard of stone had sliced her skin during her fight with Marka Ragnos’s beast.

His tone was lighter than what he used when addressing the group of acolytes, “Are you having trouble with Acolyte Vemrin, supplicant?”

“No, my Lord, but he may have trouble with me.”

With Dolgis was out of the way, Vemrin was down one less groupie and the news she had slain the Beast of Marka Ragnos, spread throughout the Academy like lightning. Everyone knew of their rivalry and as a result Vermin was running out of allies. Their next encounter, Vemrin would have to contend with her himself.

“He has been hardened into a lethal machine,” Baras declared fixing her with what she assumed was a stern gaze, which instead echoed through his voice, the Force shifting and expanding slightly around him, “Vemrin has paid his dues. Fought a deck stacked against him to get here. You, on the other hand…”

Baras paused, observing the Acolyte before him. She had surprised him, a feat which was not so easy to do, his network painstakingly established throughout his life had given him little information on her. For that, he was not at all amused.

He knew of the girl’s heritage, the Hallow Clan was an ancient one and could trace back their line to before the Great Hyperspace War. Her father, Darth Canis, the clan patriarch was well known amongst Sith circles for his ruthlessness and cruelty.

Showing little Force sensitivity, she had been placed in New Adasta’s military academy in the hope of earning a high rank in the military to make-up her lack of sensitivity. But there was an incident, its’ nature shrouded in mystery, only known a member of the main family died, much like its aftermath and her subsequent disappearance.

As such he knew little of her early childhood to her arrival on Korriban, only when Hallow returned, she did so strong in the Force. Enough that amongst all her siblings, she was selected to attend the Academy. Yet even then she was supposed to arrive in a years’ time, and he knew nothing of the extent of the upstarts training.

Aindri examined the Darth as he did her and she could almost feel him prodding her through the Force and she had to resist the urge to push back, to force him out. It was a predator and prey moment and if Baras had any doubts, he could have killed her where she stood.

Instead she submitted herself to his ministrations, pushing everything that which could be determined as a weakness to be exploited to the back of her mind. She then locked it all behind several safeguards, an iron wall even he would not be able to pierce to be safe.

Silence followed as Baras chewed over whatever he had perceived, “Overseer Tremel has done you, and this Academy, a great disservice. Your warblade came early. Prisoners flown in for _your_ convenience, even a beast here on Korriban instead of _offworld_ in the _wild_. The pacing of the trials is deliberate and only full immersion over time produces results.”

Aindri remained silent as he paced across the dark panelled floor, his discontent roiling in the Force as he spoke, using it to emphasise certain words to further voice his displeasure.

“Your mind is soft, _unhoned_ , _undisciplined_.”

She had been immersed, for most of her teenage life in fact – _Ari’_ had seen to it, even if her mother and father did not. But Aindri held her tongue. Tremel’s assessment and Baras’s own presence in the Force in mind, he was likely watching her to see how she would react. To his displeasure, to the implications she was subpar, beneath notice.

Unworthy.

“It is offensive,” He continued, “To be presented with an acolyte who does not even have an elementary understanding of what it means to be Sith. The first month of trials should be dedicated to philosophy, conceptual tactics,” Demanding, “Do you even know of the code?”

“Peace is a lie, there is only passion.” Aindri recited as she had been taught in her first week of training, “Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken.” She held her gaze, grey eyes stormy, to the eye of Baras’s mask, “The Force shall set me free.”

Aindri had stepped forward as she spoke, the Darth holding his ground as she moved to where she would be stand only foot away. The air was thick with tension once she finished reciting the Code in Basic and Baras tilted his head.

“Nwûl tash, Dzwol shâsotkun. Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk. Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan. Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha. Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak. Wonoksh Qyâsik nun.”

Baras watched Hallow with interest, the acolyte was more prepared than he had expected, reciting the Code in the Sith language. His body language shifted from stony indifference to a level of intrigue and it the upstart took it as indication to continue.

“The Sith Code was written as a reply to the Jedi Code, known by Sorzus Syn and her compatriots to be full of half-truths. Peace is a lie, there is only passion. True peace is a lie. We are always in competition whether against a rival, the Republic or life itself. Conflict is a source of progress, a lack of it, stagnation. Unlike the Jedi we do not forgo conflict, nor do we ignore our passion. Sith fully embrace both and use it to fuel our strength.”

Aindri kept her eyes and attention on Baras throughout her speech, ready to stop if the Darth gave the word to stop but he did not, not yet. She continued at the same deliberate pace to give herself time to arrange her thoughts and avoid accusations of flippancy.

“Through passion, I gain strength. Passion is what keeps all creatures alive. By denying passion, Jedi deny their true nature. Mastery over our passions is what gives Sith a strength the Jedi lack. Through strength, I gain power. Only those who have both the physical and mental strength necessary to overcome the challenges will gain true power. Through this a Sith achieves their true potential.”

Her uncle was the same. He would accept neither apologies or excuses, only that she would stand up and face a challenge, whether head-on or through deception, and she would become stronger for it. It was the same with actions. Violence should never be committed for purely violence sake. Always with purpose, always with motive.

“Through power, I gain victory. A Sith must fight for very victory, achieve it through demonstrating their power is superior over their opponents.”

Of course, while the line seemed self-explanatory at first glance, it was not entirely literal, rather like all the lines, served as a catch-all, encompassing big ideas in easy lines. There were certain nuances which could be applied, victory for instant depended on context.

“Through victory, my chains are broken.” One of the Code’s most debated lines, Aindri could recall long arguments with _Ari’_ and later Tormi and Venitas over its meaning, “Removing ones’ restrictions, whether placed by someone else or self-imposed, to achieve perfection and fulfil their potential. Perfection is a goal to work for rather than a state of being.”

Personally, Aindri disagreed with the standard interpretations of the line, finding though her own observations throwing off ones’ chains only lead to being shackled by new ones. While the end-goal may be to rid oneself of as many chains as possible, seeking perfection often drove one to madness.

“The Force shall set me free.” Aindri finished, “Only those who seek perfection through pursuing knowledge and mastery of the Force are rewarded. Follow the code, and a Sith becomes free of restrictions, physical or immaterial.”

For Sith and Jedi alike, the Force was the greatest tool they had for doing all things. It was the fulcrum, the pry bar, mallet or scalpel, use only limited by imagination. Common sense was the collection of prejudices acquired by age eighteen, freeing your mind from expectations, thinking creatively and outside the box, you could accomplish anything.

Baras had remained silent as she talked Aindri had compromised, giving enough to show she understood the Code but not knowledge nor the gritty detail of its application in combat and politics. She then waited as he re-examined her with the new knowledge of her philosophical training.

“You are not as you appear, Acolyte,” Baras noted and Aindri stood tall as he stalked around her, large frame radiating energy as the wheels of his mind spun, “Your ability is undeniable, even as you still remain lacking.”

Aindri read his body language and his tone of voice. One needn’t have the Force to know Baras was planning something, mind whirring with possible machinations. Sith politics, she reminded herself, was a game within which numerous games were played with many pieces being moved around a single dejarikboard.

She waited for him to speak; one did not block a non-existent strike only fail in blocking the actual blow when anticipating the action. Aindri would not jump the blaster, she could endure silence when it was required.

Darth Baras stopped behind her, hands slowly settling on her shoulders, “I am your master now, Tremel was becoming lax before you ever arrived and his unwillingness to adapt to the evolving Sith paradigm has become a liability. These are the actions of a traitor and traitors, are executed.”

“And what of punishment?” She asked, not flinching touch nor relaxing into his touch.

Killing an Overseer would be a sure way to get her executed. One might believe her if she told the death was ordered by a Darth, but none would lift a finger to do anything to the acts’ mastermind. It was a simple and easy way for Baras to be rid of both her and Tremel, hence her question.

“I grant you immunity. Now go and do not return until you’ve killed him.” Baras, removed his hand from her shoulders and she turned to face him, “Bring me back his hand as proof.”

Bowing her head in acquiescence she strode from the room, starting for Tremel’s chambers for the final time, not entirely comfortable with the idea of the overseer’s blood on her hands. Betrayal never sat right with her. Aindri snorted, for Sith betrayal was as common occurrence as the rising sun and setting moon.

Her immediate family, her father, mother, brothers and sisters, and most Sith would jeer at her, accuse her of becoming soft. But others would understand her frustration with the constant infighting plaguing the Order. It weakened the Sith, any fool could see it.

Unfortunately, most Sith were such fools and she was not suicidal enough to attempt to slaughter vast swathes of their ranks. They were fools she would have to suffer while subtle exerting her influence for change.

An acolyte she maybe, the Hallow name had weight and as its heir so did she.

Tremel looked up when Acolyte Hallow entered, surprised and suspicious she returned so soon. He scrutinised her, but like usual little gave away her thoughts. Her expression was neutral, her body relaxed and only the smallest flicker in her eyes indicated something was on her mind though its cause was not something he could discern.

“Acolyte, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. Has Baras sent you back to me?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Aindri replied, drawing her warblade and holding it loosely at her side, ready to snap into defence or offense at her whim, “He has sent me to kill you.”

“Then I have been outplayed. Baras has the authority, but I did not expect something his overt,” He murmured and shook his head in disbelief, “Either I die, or he forces me to kill you and to destroy my own plan. A master stroke.”

She felt the pull of Tremel trying to take her weapon and tightened her grip, “A cunning ploy.”

With a sigh Tremel stood, “Very well. You have your orders, Acolyte. Know it gives me no pleasure to kill you.” He ignited his lightsaber, crimson blade springing to life with a low-pitched whine as if the blade knew there was little it could do to prevent its masters impending death, “I’ll make your end quick and painless. It’s the least I can do.”

* * *

 

The Overseer showed strength and resilience in the end and Aindri would give credit where credit was due. Tremel had survived in a place where assassinations where an almost daily occurrence, no easy feat. One of his blows had even slipped past her guard to sear her arm.

But one of them had to fall and in the end, it was him. He fell with the knowledge despite being seeming out-manoeuvred, his plans would somewhat reach fruition. Vemrin would not become Sith at the very least.

Sith politics, Aindri reminded herself were all games within games entrapped in even more games. Tremel had upset the board and Baras reacted as such, forced to make decisions he had not anticipated nor planned for due to her presence.

It was not lost on Aindri in killing Tremel, any allies the man had would likely turn on her in anger over her actions. Absolved of any wrong doing or not, Baras was positioning her to be under his thumb completely. She would have been if not for her own families influence and _Ari’_ making sure she was able to stand under her own power.

Already in that way she was different from Tremel who was not substantial without someone or something to hold him up. The man’s hastiness in her Trials suggested he was in danger of losing whatever footholds he had and sought to regain them quickly.

It was a power play but with less able players than Aindri had first realised at the very beginning. Tremel had been trying to get the blood out of the water rather than removing himself from it. He was a torch, something to light the path and lead the way but the past-his-prime Overseer was little more than that.

However, Aindri had her own roots to support herself and she would not be like him.

Entering Baras’s chambers, Aindri took a knee and offered the proof, no trophy, because that’s what the hand was, a trophy, to her new master, her clothes splattered with fresh blood, her nostrils cloyed with bloods’ coppery scent. A lightsaber would have cauterised the cut, but she was not Sith yet and so had no such luxury.

Baras took it, turning it over in his hand, “I am impressed you had the fortitude to destroy him, you know he thought of you as family. How did it feel to betray him?”

She shrugged elegantly, “Tremel’s death has strengthened the Empire which is what he sought. Not in the way he thought but strengthened, nonetheless. He failed to adapt. I did what was called for.”

“You mask your feelings well,” Baras commented offhandedly, then admonished, “Make sure you do not suppress them.” He slipped the golden band on Tremel’s ring finger from the severed hand and held it out, “Here. Take this one ring as a memento. Remembering the past can strengthen resolve and embolden the spirit.”

Or hold you back, Aindri couldn’t help but think as she took the ring, slipping it into her pocket. She would have to watch out for Eskella. As a daughter, the woman would lose face if she at least didn’t attempt challenge her fathers’ executioner, though Aindri doubted she would go as far as to ally with Vemrin for her revenge.

“Thank you, Master,” She replied, true thoughts hidden, “I shall remember your wisdom.”

Baras stood from his desk, looking up at the statue of Emperor set against his chambers wall, and while subtle. With her senses Aindri could perceive the cold spark of his ambition when he gazed upon the Emperor’s chiselled visage.

“Thinking nothing of it, Acolyte,” Said Baras, brushing off the platitude, “By destroying Tremel, you have taken your first step to a deeper understanding the Sith Code.” He turned to her, “You have freed yourself from his shackles and escaped his fate.”

 “And now I’m bound by your chains.” Aindri commented drily.

“You’ll find they are a marked improvement, with much greater potential range.”

Until, she was no longer of use. With his final breath, Tremel warned her not to trust Baras, a final lesson Aindri already knew but would take to heart. He may have only been her teacher for a short while, but she would remember and honour their lessons.

There was a brief pause in conversation, one in which Aindri considered the word potential. As an adjective it meant having or showing the capacity to develop into something in the future. But just because she had the ability to develop into a range didn’t mean she would do so under Baras’s tutelage; a subtle warning then.

Aindri eyes never left the Darth’s mask, “What would you have of me, my Lord?”

Baras examined her, gaze drifting to the wound on Hallows arm before returning to her face, detecting not a single hint of pain in her features and only discomfort in her Force signature. The acolyte truly did hide her emotions well.

“Dealing with Tremel has left you behind your peers. Minutes ago, I sent my acolytes to collect inscriptions from the Tomb of Tulak Hord. Enter the tomb and bring me a shard from each of the ruined shrines. I set no rules regarding how the shards are secured and they will stop at nothing. It is up to your discretion how you retrieve them.”

Further down the corridor came a Sith in blue inquisitor’s robes, beckoning Aindri to follow.

“You are heading to the tombs?” The Sith asked, a sharp smile crossing her features at Aindri’s confirming nod, “Good. I am Inquisitor Urinth and represent the intelligence operations of the Sith. Whatever your master has tasked with can wait.”

Leading through the maze of corridors, Urinth explained in low tones the presence of a captured Jedi down in the jails, separated from other prisoners, particularly Republic ones.

Aindri recalled the sudden spike in activity two weeks ago, whole platoons of troops going from tomb to tomb. Each even had an Overseer or Inquisitor at the helm. She and others had questioned the reason behind it but had only heard rumours. Rumours which while useful and on occasion uncannily accurate, could be taken out of proportion.

“How did the Jedi even land on Korriban?” Aindri asked as they entered a small office.

“Those who helped him are being hunted down as we speak, and those who failed to discover it have been punished. However, despite the blunder we can use this to our advantage.” Urinth leant back against the desk and crossed her arms as the acolyte raised a questioning brow, “Upon capture we found his mind simple to manipulate. We fed him false memories through a combination of drugs and sorcery and once he returns to his Jedi commanders and report the lies, we fed him.”

“The Jedi won’t know his memories have been tampered with?” Aindri asked.

“Indeed, and now all that remains is to stage his escape.”

“And I am young enough, new enough to the Academy to be a likely traitor,” Aindri reasoned, followed by a thought filled hum, “I will go visit this Jedi now.”

“Good,” Urinth nodded her approval, “Do whatever is necessary to get him out of prison. You will find the Jedi in the jails. He is still confused so should not be overly difficult to convince.” She gave the acolyte a sharp look, “I choose you, Acolyte, because my colleague, Inquisitor Arzanon, has spoken highly of your work. Do not fail.”

Aindri raised a hand in acknowledgement as she left the room, door hissing shut behind her.

Descending to the academy’s jails, she found the Jedi’s cell in an isolated area of the jail, cocking her head as she heard him reciting the Jedi Code. She debated for a moment before deciding on a sympathetic approach and talked with the Jedi, promising to retrieve his comlink and lightsaber from Tulak Hord’s tomb.

The Jedi looked at her sadly as she left, “I’m sorry to have to ask this of you, I know the tombs are very dangerous.”

She smiled down at him reassuringly, “I am prepared to take the risk.”

The Jedi smiled his thanks and returned to his meditation. Aindri could feel the Force flowing through and around him as he sunk into its flow. It was interesting to witness a Jedi’s introspection and compare to how Sith meditated.

* * *

Aindri shook her head as she stepped into the tomb’s interior sending a shower of sand and dust down onto the stairs leading into its depths. Descending them, she arrived at a chamber occupied by several troopers, the odd technician working on deactivated and most likely centuries old droids.

She sighed upon learning of the ongoing slave revolt, because of course there was one right in the middle of the Valley and aided by rogue Imperial soldiers no less. Aindri idly wondered how many of Baras’s other Acolytes had been caught in it.

How did they expect to rule the galaxy when they failed to keep their own troops in line?

Moving quickly, Aindri cut down both droid and rebelling slave. Rocky detritus crunched underfoot as she made her way through the tomb, a metallic scent invading her nostrils from where fresh blood had been spilled. Some of the rebels had already died when she got to them, ripped and shredded by Shyrack.

The tomb was full of the pests and while by themselves Shyrack were only mildly dangerous, in a flock they posed much more of a threat, preserving through sheer weight of numbers. It was clear within moments of Aindri entering the ruins that before the rebellion the Shyrack had no local predator to cull their numbers.

Finding the shrines holding the ancient transcripts was easy enough regardless.

One was in a side chamber not far from the tombs’ entrance, buried among the rubble of a broken alter in a small side chamber not far from entrance. She retrieved the first shard and then came upon a large sand filled open air atrium, the open space filled with crumbling statues and slaves and rogue troopers supported by ancient droids.

She kept up her guard, eyes peeled for the other Acolytes, as she crossed the atrium filled with stone chiselled monuments half covered by Korriban’s changing sands. Whoever challenged her advance quickly fell to her blade.

The shrine in the archives housing the second shard were empty of slaves, but its chambers were infested with K’lor’slugs rather than the usual Shyrack. Aindri’s lips curled down in distaste as she ventured onwards.

The third, Aindri found in the tombs’ western wing, running her fingers lightly over the archaic script, barely legible after more than three thousand years of disuse. Korriban’s dry atmosphere did wonders for preservation but even it had its limit. It was also there she recovered the Jedi’s gear, stowed away in an urn in one of the wide corridors.

Aindri retrieved the final shard in an area of the tomb positively overrun by Shyrack, the large bat like creatures attacking the Acolyte the moment she entered the east wing. Their appetites aroused by the scent of blood on her clothes.

In the evening, the number of Acolytes present in the tomb was lower than during the day and Aindri left cataloguing her wounds. The only serious one was a shallow gash on her left shoulder, curtesy of a group who jumped her as she neared the exit, hell bent on stealing her shards.

Aindri recognised Klemral as the who had landed the lucky blow, a ripple in the Force alerting her to his presence despite concealing himself to avoid notice. His ripped clothes, bleeding cuts, burning eyes and hard hunger in his voice indicated he had too much trouble with the tombs’ denizens to complete his task.

His hunger told her why he went after her, one of the oldest means-to-an-end. He had meant to kill Aindri and take her shards, weaving the story as he saw fit. Like the others, Klemeral was terrified of returning to Baras sans shards and that was what gave him away.

Sith may not supress their emotions but they do try to put a dampener on what others might perceive. Klemeral had been too afraid to put on said dampener and it exposed him, something which on Korriban was virtually suicidal.

She dispatched them quickly, her opponents weak and slow, showing them no mercy.

By the time Aindri returned to Darth Baras’s chambers, the acolyte had quite reached what she felt to be the limit of her tolerance for stupidity for one week. The depths of pathetic Klemeral had achieved before his death left her with a sour feeling in her stomach.

He had complained of too many shyrack and thought he could take on her? If he had kept himself hidden and come at her from behind Klemeral would have had a better chance. Not much of one, but he would have at least gotten points for effort.

So far in a week, she had to deal with psychotic soldiers, Dolgis, traitorous soldiers and then Klemeral and the other nameless acolytes cooling in the tomb. Aindri had killed more people in the past week than in the past two months she had been on Korriban.

She didn’t know if she should be proud at garnering so much attention as to be targeted by other acolytes or irritated by the lack of skill her would-aggressors demonstrated. With the way the Academy gossip mill turned, one would think people would have realised a certain calibre of individual should just be stayed away from.

He had complained of too many shyrack and thought he could take on her? If he had kept himself hidden and come at her from behind Klemeral would have had a better chance. Not much of one, but he would have at least gotten points for effort.

So far in a week, she had to deal with psychotic soldiers, Dolgis, traitorous soldiers and then Klemeral and the other nameless acolytes cooling in the tomb. Aindri had killed more people in the past week than in the past two months she had been on Korriban.

She didn’t know if she should be proud at garnering so much attention as to be targeted by other acolytes or irritated by the lack of skill her would-aggressors demonstrated. With the way the Academy gossip mill turned, one would think people would have realised a certain calibre of individual should just be stayed away from.

At least she had Vemrin’s reaction to look forward to when she returned with the shards, for Aindri had no doubt he was already with Baras, positioning himself as the only successful acolyte. Her lips quirked upwards in anticipation.

His reaction was far from disappointing.

When Vemrin saw her, shards in hand, his expression tightened and he almost seemed to shake in the effort of not showing how much she had gotten under his skin, but Aindri could sense his seething rage, threatening to boil over.

Baras looked up from his inspection of Vemrin’s shards the moment Hallow entered, “Ah, the prodigal supplicant returns and with all the shards from the tomb of Tulak Hord.”

He thought of Tremel and the stasis container holding the Overseer’s severed hand, his latest trophy and, perhaps, not the only thing of value he would be taking from Korriban. At first, he was to let the chips fall where they may for Vemrin would have been a perfectly acceptable new apprentice, someone easily lead around on a leash.

A sparkling tool for his already impressive collection but Vemrin seemed to have faded, losing his sheen and lustre in the face for the prodigious acolyte Tremel had unearthed. It appeared the Overseer was correct about that Acolyte; it was almost a pity Hallow had removed him from the picture before Tremel was able to see what she would become.

“Superb,” He mused when the Acolyte presented the shards with a bowed head, summoning them to him and laying them out on his desk, “Simply superb.”

Vemrin was simmering with bloodlust, impatient to kill and maim, prove himself on the battlefield. But she was the calmer of the two, more in control, a good thing considering how often a Sith could go mad with power. Vemrin had power but also a tendency to fly off the handle the moment a potential threat appeared, something Baras did not need.

The Darth only took the best and his previous was no longer that.

“It seems your hopes have been dashed, Vemrin.” Baras noted lightly.

Light like a scalpel cutting into flesh, Aindri mused. The Darth was down to two promising acolytes and he would pit them against each other to see who would come out on top in a fight. A classical Sith play, one of the old games.

Growling, Vemrin seemed to tremble with the effort of not showing she had gotten under his skin. But the tightening of his fists in a poor effort to keep calm and voice coming from the back of his throat, low and even, was a dead giveaway. Like if he didn’t, he would be screaming in frustration.

“Appearances can be deceptive.”

Despite his seemingly calm tone, Vemrin’s gaze burned in their sockets, the hatred behind them fully directed at her. There was one thing she could do which would really get to him at that stage and she focused on Baras, completely ignoring the other.

The Darth chuckled at the exchange, “Excuse, Vemrin, Hallow. He expected you to fall flat on your face.”

Vemrin’s face reddened, Aindri bet he had made many boasts. If she read Baras correctly, he will have been inciting Vemrin against her at every opportunity. Her supposed rival was the type easily goaded by those he perceived as authority figures while she responded to actual stimulus.

Baras had been priming both for their confrontation from the moment he first laid eyes on them. Aindri had simply come into the game later than most and while their war had been cold until then, that was to change.

The Darth was clever, while his stratagems weren’t opaque, they were layered and complex.

“Forgive Vemrin, Darth Baras,” Said Aindri, like the man wasn’t there to hear it.

She was flexing the class she had already sunk in Vermin’s flesh. Shake a man’s confidence, give a woman reason to doubt and their power was halved. It was the reason Sith could be so chatty with their opponents, especially with fellow Force-users

"His world is burning down around him."

“The tension is thick between you two,” Baras observed softly, noting the silent battle of wills between the two Acolytes; one a crackling pyre soon to burn out, the other the oncoming storm, “A great source of emotion to feed on. I wonder what will happen when it boils over.”

No mystery there, Aindri mused, one of them would be dead in a grave. Or a ditch. Or left in a ruin to rot. Regardless a life would be lost, it was the inevitable outcome the moment they laid eyes on the other.

No, it was inevitable the moment Tremel called her to the Academy to face her trials.

“I have much to consider. For now, you are both dismissed. Return tomorrow morning.”

Bowing, they left Baras’s chambers, Vemrin shoving past her in the hall, hand inching towards his blade but unable to attack with a Darth so close by. Aindri moved away to head for the infirmary to receive treatment for her shoulder. She would be on top form for whatever Baras had for them particularly if she was correct in what task he would set.

* * *

 

Aindri was reading in the archives, trying to translate the scans she had taken of the shards she gave to Baras. A presence pinged her senses and she looked up from her datapad to see Inquisitor Urinth approaching her table.

“I have received word the Jedi is preparing his escape. You did well. I have confidence the operation will succeed.”

She nodded when a familiar signature caught her senses and Aindri put a finger to her lips, gaze drifting past the Inquisitor to settle on the acolytes heading in their direction. Urinth shifted slightly to glance subtle over her shoulder at them before turning back to her with a miniscule nod.

“You have been a pleasure to teach, Acolyte.”

Nodding her thanks, Aindri motioned for Acolytes Phyne and Teeno to sit down.

The two had ambushed her along with a group of fellow acolytes early during her first month on Korriban. They had offered their services in dealing with Vemrin, his rivalry with her well known even back then. She had refused of course which led to them sparring so they could prove their worth.

They had lost but Aindri had seen their potential. They were not her level nor would they ever be, but Teeno burned with an ambition simmering beneath his surface and Phyne oozed passion. The twp would make something of themselves if given the chance.

Aindri had told them she appreciated the initiative but not stupidity. The four had yet to earn their warblades, while she and Vemrin were on the precipice of being apprenticed to a powerful Darth. They had experience and passion which outweighed the fours own, letting let their passion interfere with logic, a mistake many Sith made and died as consequence.

What she told them was to not rush to prove themselves but to watch Vemrin instead and Phyne and Teeno together with their friends performed admirably. The four provided her with much information on Vemrin’s movements and allies.

“Vemrin’s pissed,” Phyne whispered, sliding into the seat opposite her, “Really pissed.”

“Went toe-to-toe with six other acolytes,” Teeno added, “Looked ready to murder someone.”

Aindri nodded, not entirely surprised and told them to continue keeping an eye on him. She doubted Vemrin would doing anything between now and their meeting with Baras, but she would remain cautious now that they’re rivalry was coming to a head. They bowed their heads, Phyne giving her a small smile, before leaving her to her thoughts.

Leaning back in her chair, Aindri tipped her head to look up at the ceiling, staring at seamless rock. Her time on Korriban was coming to an end. Regardless of who Baras chose, one of them would fall and one would rise. Picking up her datapad she left the archives and headed toward her dorm to prepare for her final day on Korriban.

 

 


	6. Lightsaber

Aindri awoke at dawn the morning of her final Trial, slipping out of the room on silent feet to her high perch away from the rest of the Academy. She found it searching for a place none could sneak up on her, where she could clear her mind of all thoughts and simply be.

It was a small, tucked away spot where workers moved unearthed Sith artefacts or constructed restoration work on the tombs themselves. Even then most never stayed up there longer than they had to, and it was quiet.

Taking a lift and climbing up the rest of the way, she moved to sit at the edge, legs dangling over into the dark void below. The drop was fatal by Aindri had no fear she would be taking any sort of plunge. Instead she enjoyed the glow of the rising sun, long shadows cast across the sand while cliff edges and walls basked in Horuset’s rays.

The wind blew strong and she tied her hair back to stop it whipping about her face.

The Academy grounds were silent, too early for anyone to be on Trials. There would be no one other than the usual patrol of guards out and about the grounds. It was perfect for her planned meditation; Aindri would be ready and focused for what Baras threw at her.

Her wounds from the Wilds and Hord’s tomb had fully healed, the natural healing process already accelerated by the Force, curtesy of the infirmary. She was ready physically and mentally, but some early morning ‘seething’ never hurt.

She sunk into the vast sea of lights, lapping at her skin as beings moved within it, causing ripples. Deaths and births caused waves while great events sent out tsunamis. There was a reason why despite their differences multiple Force-sects used water as a metaphor and visualisation technique.

But she and _Ari’_ also particularly favoured seeing the Force as akin to a spider’s web, a multitude of threads each connected in a state of semi-controlled chaos. Tug a strand and jostle someone elsewhere or, twitch a strand and find something elsewhere.

Aindri could feel those strands, tugging and twitching as those in the Academy below roused themselves or were roused by others from sleep, sending out ripples. She could see herself on the perch, hands resting lightly on her lap.

Once an exercise it was as natural as breathing and Aindri’s sense was particularly acute.

Her eyes opened, briefly glowing a bright yellow before fading back to their normal stormy grey. She rose and stretched while gazing out over the Valley of the Dark Lords, which tomb, Aindri wondered, would she be sent too?

She had been waiting, waiting for her chance to graduate Korriban, to become an apprentice. Aindri could have chosen to be apprenticed to _Ari’_ if she wished. Truly, she had already finished the trials which typically occurred offworld before even stepping foot on Korriban and could have been sent to the tomb world for her final trial only.

But she could not, not if she wanted to stretch her metaphorical wings and take flight. To build her power to support herself, to have her own roots. She already had some, but to be apprenticed to _Ari’_ would have done her no favours.

Shaking her head, the acolyte checked her chrono and climbed down from her perch to head in. She was calm, her emotions within easy reach, she was focused, she was ready.

* * *

 

“You both stand on the precipice of becoming Sith,” Said Baras to the two Acolytes standing side-by-side in complete odds with one another in the Force, “But only one of you will have the opportunity to claim a special lightsaber and serve as my apprentice.”

The Darth observed the two; Vemrin was rage simmering below the surface threatening to blow the moment someone looked at him the wrong way. In comparison Aindri was cool and calm, but there was a deadly intent which made acolytes view her with a level of wariness as she passed them on her way to Baras’s chambers.

“I thought it would be you, Vemrin. But,” Baras waved laxly, “I’ve changed my mind.”

Aindri took in the words with a feeling of satisfaction and cold understanding. She could feel Vemrin’s built up rage exploding in the Force. She knew in that moment; the next time they met it would be a fight to death, and she looked forward to it.

Truthfully Baras’s decision, did not surprise her when she thought about it. Baras struck her as being all about subtlety but Vemrin had all the subtlety of a hoard of wild Rancor. 

“What?!” Vemrin demanded, dropping all respect and shedding his dignity, his emotions saturating the air as he railed against Baras, “I’ve done everything you’ve asked! Better than any of the others! The honour should be mine!”

“Do you still not see it, Vemrin?” Aindri goaded softly, injecting a touch of grim humour into her tone as she acknowledged him for the first time, “I always keep my promises.”

She knew Vemrin was hearing her threats from their first meeting playing back in his head. His fear anger and fear may leave him volatile and increase the danger he represents, but volatility was a sign of poor control. However, much Sith relied on fear and aggression, a first class Sith didn’t not allow them to run amok.

A Sith without control is easily overwhelmed by their emotions and easily developed blind spots which leads to death. Good Sith, the very best, fully in control of themselves and thus everything around them. Look at the Dark Council, its members cold, implacable, nothing seeming to touch them until their assassins or apprentices, or lackeys caught up.

It was why they rarely killed outside each other; one wasn’t sure of their capabilities.

“The Force is stronger with you, Hallow. And a power sleeping within you.”

Aindri refrained from rolling her eyes, the comment didn’t truly mean anything, more a classical figure of speech meant to court the foolish and insecure. But next to her Vemrin was nearly besides himself and she knew he would have slaughtered her if he could. Aindri could hear the undulating scream of fear and frustration echoing through the Force.

“It was, in the end, a simple decision.” Baras turned to Vemrin, his tone brooking no argument as he ordered, “Now Vemrin, go wait in my antechamber for your instructions.”

Vemrin didn’t move, in fact he looked ready to commit mutiny.

Baras snarled, the Force snapping in the air, “This _instant_.”

Snarling, Vemrin stormed from the room, the air simmering with his fury, and door of the meditation chamber shut with a loud bang. Aindri had no doubt Baras would have a ‘pep talk’ for him once she was gone and manipulate him into following her though it would not take much. The Darth was a manipulator which meant she would have to be careful.

It would be an interesting, if headache inducing, experience.

When the Acolyte was gone, Baras shifted his attention back to Hallow and considered her carefully, questioning once again how he had overlooked an Acolyte of such clear promise.

The speed with which she completed her trials was unprecedented, her success much to do with her power, raw as it was, rather than Tremel’s machinations. She had much untapped potential and he would have to be careful how he handled her.

“I hope you fathom fortunate you are to be singled out,” Baras intoned, voice once again curbed to cool geniality, “If you become my apprentice, the galaxy will bend before you.”

How interesting, Aindri mused, unlike Tremel the Darth did not promise power but rather of freedom to exercise her power. He already had a much better grasp of her personality than the Overseer ever did. Baras was dangerous but at least a master she could respect.

“Now, the lightsaber you seek is ancient and powerful.”

Aindri took a moment to revel in her excitement before squashing it complete. After waiting for so many years, she would finally gain the right to use a lightsaber on the battlefield. A symbol of the Sith Order almost as old as the Order itself, a weapon that inspired and terrified.

She supposed this was an ‘impossible task’ meant to judge her mettle since retrieving the saber wasn’t necessary. Most could be given a crystal, a word of direction and still build a perfectly acceptable lightsaber. But there were still places in the Tombs yet to be opened, puzzles still to be solved. He wanted to send her into the worst place possible.

“It is locked in a hidden chamber in the Tomb of Naga Sadow. Almost no one knows how to find the chamber entrance but there is a Twi’lek in the holding pens who was caught trying to enter.”

Blue skin and violet eyes flashed in her mind as Aindri arched a brow, “How courageous.”

“Indeed. I hear she is quite willful. Take her and make her open the chamber then claim the weapon and return. Succeed, you will become my apprentice. Fail, you will die.”

Waiting for his gesture, Aindri bowed at the waist and withdrew. She could guess were the Twi’lek was, recalling the spirited one she had last seen verbally sparring with Knash. It seemed their futures were linked and she’d a feeling it would continue past Korriban, the Force drawing them to each other. 

Reaching the jails, she could already Knash and the Twi’lek, once again engaged in a bout of verbal sparring and Aindri couldn’t help thinking some things never changed. It had quickly become a topic of gossip around the Academy about a suicidal Twi’lek who mouthed off to any Sith or imperial trooper passing her by.

Both prisoner and jailer seemed to enjoy engaging and riling each other up, though as the Twi’lek yelped in pain Aindri doubt she enjoyed the Knash’s liberal use of the shock collar.

“Ouch! Give it a rest, will you?” Shouted the Twi’lek.

Aindri leaned against the doorway, taking the opportunity to study the Twi’lek. She looked wearier than she had previously, a kind of weariness which went beyond physical limitations. It further impressed Aindri with her fortitude despite her situation.

While she could see the Twi’lek who glared at the jailor like doing so would electrocute him to death with each passing second, Knash had his back to her. But Aindri could feel the sadistic glee as he chuckled and once again pressed down on the shock collars remote.

“Keep pushing me slave, I can do this all day.”

As if to emphasise his point the collar crackled to life and dispensed a particularly nasty shock, causing the Twi’lek to cry out in pain and grip at her neck; enough was enough.

“No, you cannot,” Aindri interrupted, startling jailor and Twi’lek, “I need her functional.”

“Ah,” Knash stumbled, glancing at her nervously on taking in the steely look at her eyes and the voice of someone holding their distaste in check, “As if on cue, look whose back.”

The Acolyte had an edge of her not there during her previous visit and her presence in the Force radiated a subtle but dangerous power. At least none he could sense. What’s worse was he couldn’t sure whether it was directed at him or someone, something, else.

“So, I hear you’ll be relieving me of this Twi’lek.”

"I am to take this girl to the place where she was found."

"Hn. Good, she’s been a right pain in the neck," Knash said darkly.

“Who’s a pain in the neck?” The Twi’lek demanded, sitting up and making a face at Knash, tugging at her collar to emphasise her point, “I’m the one wearing the shock collar.”

“Consider that a going away present, Twi’lek.” Knash fiddled with the remote for the shock collar, hesitating a moment or two before placing it in her open palm, “Here, got it set to a high level. Use it enough, she'll show you the back door to her mother's house."

He looked at it longingly like a child who finally gave up their favourite childhood toy.

Aindri curled her hand over the remote, hiding it from Knash while grimacing inwardly. The remote and collar would be an easy way to assure herself of the Twi’lek’s cooperation, but she would prefer not to use it. Besides as Aindri caught the fiery gaze in violet eyes, staring back intently into hers, she did not think it would work in the long run.

“Um, hey,” Smiled the Twi’lek, standing and dusting her trousers off, placing her hands on her hips with a smug expression, “So none of you can still figure out how to activate the tomb statues to open the forbidden cavern, huh?”

Knash pressed down, only to remember he had given the remote away and he scowled.

She was new, what the other was doing; Aindri was an unknown compared to Knash who the Twi’lek knew how far she could push. So, she was watching, testing the waters and waiting for her reaction. Aindri walked up to the cell, regarding the young woman.

“Follow me and my instructions and no harm will come to you. Don’t…”

Aindri let the sentence hang, thumb hovering over the remote.

The Twi’lek’s eyes flitted to it before nodding, “Right. Guess I’m playing tomb tour guide. A lot of working went into cracking that nut. But I did it once, I can do it again.”

“Good. Jailor Knash, if you would?” Aindri nodded to Knash.

Moving aside to allow Knash to open the cell, the Twi’lek stepped out, rolling her shoulders and stretching her cramped limbs. She stood close, recognising protection where she saw it. Said protection and the lack of remote in the jailor’s hand also seemed to have loosened her tongue and she gave her former captor a mock menacing look.

“Lead the way.” The Twi’lek declared, “Onto Sith business.”

Knash growled back at her and Aindri chuckled lowly at actions of the bouncing bundle of sliver tongued energy Twi’lek as they exited the jails. The galaxy had quite the sense of humour, pairing the two of them together. A Sith apprentice and a former thief turned slave in an empire that strongly disliked any alien species.

They made a strange pair and many acolytes stared at them, as she led them through the academies winding corridors. The Twi’lek looked confused when Aindri brought them to her second-floor dormitory rather than outside.

“I thought we were going to the tomb?”

Aindri looked at her, “We are getting you equipped first.” She unlocked the dormitory door and strode for her bed, “Our height is similar so my clothes should fit. Then you are eating a proper meal. I cannot have you collapsing because you haven’t enough energy.”

The Twi’lek blinked rapidly, “Err... right.”

“I am forgetting something,” Aindri mused as she stood, “Ah yes, what is your name?”

“Name?”

“Unless you wish me to keep calling you Twi’lek?”

The other frowned, her internal debate obvious on her face before she conceded, “Suppose not. Its Vette.”

“Pleasure,” Aindri replied, handing her plainest set of garments which would in place of the rags she wore and nodded in the direction of the refresh, “Shower is through there.”

Blinking Vette shuffled into the refresh in somewhat of a daze from being treated by a Sith like a sentient being. It wasn’t something she could quite comprehend, and it was only the glory of hot water sloshing down her back water assured her it wasn’t a dream.

Vette did, however, have the presence of mind to be thankful the Sith she’d been handed too was a woman. She didn’t want to think what would happen if they were a guy and she’d heard enough lewd remarks in the jails from people who wanted a taste of Twi’lek.

What was a bit of a surprise is that Vette would say the Sith was around her age.

Thirty minutes later and she emerged from the refresher feeling cleaner than Vette had in a while and the Sith was correct about them being similar sizes, so the clothes hit. The Sith looked up from her datapad and nodded in approval when she entered then quickly ushered her out and lead them to the Quartermaster.

When the Sith said they’d get here equipped, Vette didn’t expect to actually get a blaster.

“Don’t see why’d you bother outfitting a slave.” The Quartermaster grumbled.

Vette glanced around curiously as the man disappeared into the back, she hadn’t been in that part of the Academy before, but then neither had she been out of the jails before.

He returned with a blaster and a belt. Taking them from the Quartermaster, who vanished back into the depths of the room, the Sith gave them a once over before holding them out to Vette who stared at them warily.

Getting into the tomb the first time had been a nightmare and when she’d been told, well order, to help the Sith she hadn’t been happy with idea of going back into it weaponless. But never in her wildest dream had she thought the Sith would actually _give_ her weapons. So, she was still a bit in denial about being armed, despite how very appealing it was.

The Sith arched an brow when Vette shook her head, realising she’d been staring for a while, “You’re seriously giving it to me? Aren’t you worried I’ll just shoot you in the back?”

“It would be illogical for you to do so,” The Sith replied and Vette had to admit she had a point, “I can’t defend both of us at the same time. I’m good, but not that good.”

Vette was surprised by her humility, she assumed all Sith were over arrogant pricks. Then again all her of interactions with Sith so far had more than reinforced the belief. This Sith though had been nothing but honest with her and was surprisingly mellow. But if anything, it only made Vette warier since it was always quiet ones you had to watch.

Though Vette supposed the Sith wouldn’t be giving her a weapon if she weren’t confident, she could easily crush her. Given the snippets of whispered conversations Vette had caught as they passed through the Academy had only reinforced that if she rebelled this one could.

She finally relented and took the blaster, checking it over. She was sure they’d be fine but getting into the habit of checking her own equipment had saved her life on numerous occasions. Slotting them into the holster on the belt, she held her arms out and gave her a ‘what do you think’ look.

The Sith nodded in approval and walked from the room leaving Vette to catch up with her.

“You’re weird. You know, that right?”

Aindri glanced at Vette who had run up to walk besides her before turning her attention back to the hallway with a shrug, “I am not a stereotypical Sith.”

“Oh, trust me I’m not complaining,” Vette grinned, especially if it meant she wouldn’t become beast food, not that she would admit the thought out loud, “Why are we going back to the tomb by the way?”

“A lightsaber,” Aindri answered after a pause, “One locked away in the chamber.”

The Twi’lek blinked, “Couldn’t you just make one? I thought that’s what most did.”

She shrugged; it wasn’t like the lightsaber would be missed given Sadow would have numerous. While most of the Sith’s treasure horde had been protected since reclaiming Korriban there were still lesser artefacts the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge didn’t care about. Most of the ongoing excavation projects were focused on unearthing those.

Vette dropped the subject as they entered an empty dining hall and she took one look at the Sith who nodded before speed walking to the service droids, loading her plate high.

Dropping into a seat opposite the Sith she began to eat, the other didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood but Vette was okay with silence. It gave her a chance to examine the Sith properly which was good because the Twi’lek just couldn’t quite figure the Sith out.

Whether that was good or bad, the one thing Vette did know was she had a different feeling about the Sith who for some weird reason instilled some kind of confidence in her. Well that and when the Sith looked at her, she looked past her species and her position as a thief turned slave, Vette mused as she chewed ravenously.

It was the best food she had in a while and the cup of nice juice was a bonus.

As she finished up the scraps a thought popped into her head and Vette groaned, “I should have asked for a head scarf. Can we go get one? So, my lekku won’t burn.”

The Sith shook her head as she stood, “We will not be outside for every long.”

“Okay fine,” Huffed Vette as she dumped her plate, hurrying after the Sith who despite their similar heights walked faster than her, then again, the Sith hadn’t been languishing in the jails, “Oh wait, I never got your name!”

“My Lord.” The Sith called over her shoulder.

Vette stopped, not able to tell whether she was serious or not but as the Sith continued walking, Vette decided, for safety reasons, she was being serious and jogged after her.

“Okay,” She murmured unsurely but soon cracked a grin.

Oh yes, this was more Sithy, she just hadn’t expected a Sith like this.

* * *

 

“Stay close,” Aindri growled, disarming and beheading an Acolyte who jumped them.

Vette nodded and together they plunged further into the maze of expansive and sprawling network of corridors, chambers and antechambers that was the Tomb of Naga Sadow. It was a maze that somebody could easily get lost in, a prospect which she didn’t enjoy in the slightest. The interior was dim, and the shadows made it easy to be sneaked up on.

Ever since the Empires return to Korriban decades ago, countless acolytes had fought and perished within the tomb. Death and decay clung to the walls and filled their nostrils. The further they travelled, the more the living was replaced with the dead.

It was not as nearly as bad as she expected, however. Like the other tombs she had been in Force imbued crystals were ensconced in the walls and placed on pedestals. They provided just enough light to guide acolytes while maintain a sufficiently grim ambiance.

Yep, Vette shivered, the tomb was exactly like she had left it, dark and ultra, ultra-creepy and her shiver turned more violent as she stepped over the corpse of a downed Acolyte.

“Nervous?”

Vette gave the Sith a look. Of course, she was nervous, she had every right to be nervous! They’d only just entered, and they’d already been attacked by two groups of acolytes. It was enough to make anyone jumpy and she had no idea how the Sith was still so calm.

Aindri caught it and raised a brow at Vette.

She was pleased of her foresight to arm the Twi’lek. Despite Vette’s running comedic diatribe, sarcasm making a common appearance, she was an excellent shot and a reliable fighter. Also, in this dark place with its ominous atmosphere and the dark side seductively caressing her skin, she found the Twi’lek’s flippancy helped to keep her grounded.

“How did you do it?” Aindri asked to distract her companion, “Sneak onto Korriban?”

“Easy, I dressed like a slave,” Vette replied, scratching at the base of her lekku, “Nobody pays attention to them. Found a guy selling an Imperial toolbox, sliced the security at a base and once inside, I was just another slave.” She shrugged as they rounded a corner, “If anyone asked, I was pulling something dead from an engine. Stowed away on a shuttle.”

“No one noticed?” Aindri arched a brow.

“What can I say, I’m good. Sliced the scanners to play on a loop and settled in. I had my guns, armour, zero waste food packs and urine recyc. in the toolbox.” The Twi’lek made a sour face at the mention of the waste disposal unite, “Not that matters now. Everything got confiscated. Guess that’s why I don’t mind helping you. I went a lot through stealing this places map and learning those combinations. I want to see what’s inside.”

Pausing, Vette pointed to a statue in the far corner of the chamber they stood in and Aindri moved to protect her back as she fiddled with the statue, clicks coming so fast they sounded like typing. Then there was a single loud click and the Twi’lek cheered a little.

“That was the first one, three more to go. It’s timed though so we need to move fast.”

“How long?”

“Forty minutes from the first combination to do all four. Otherwise it resets and we wait.”

Moving silently among the shadows they worked in tandem, Aindri acting as the vanguard whilst Vette laid down suppression fire on acolytes and droids from slightly further afield. Protecting her back whilst she hit the hidden switches throughout the tomb Aindri was impressed by the Twi’lek’s observational and problem-solving skills.

Vette hopped down from a ledge she used to reach the third switch, “You know, with how you lot act I never would’ve known Sith were just errand runners with swords.”

Aindri sighed, “Because we are not, Vette.”

“Right sorry, really cool glowy swords with customisable features like colour!”

“Careful, Vette, or I might mistake you for a statue.”

“Uh huh. Well we have one more, and...” Vette checked her chrono, “Eleven minutes.”

They made good time despite fighting through competing Acolytes and archaic but fully functioning guard droids which Vette helpfully informed had a self-repair function. But with their efficient combination of Aindri’s wide strokes and the Twi’lek’s sharpshooting they dealt with them handily.

Several minutes with multiple twists and turn, they reached the fourth and final switch.

Stay calm, Vette thought as she knelt at the statues base, stay calm. First finger, backward two. Fourth finger, back one. Fourth finger, backward five then back three. Two to go, one and done. Vette grabbed the cylinders and pulled, yanking out her hand at the clear click.

Looking over her shoulder she shot the Sith a thumbs up.

Eventually they came into a large circular chamber, at the back two large stone statues prostrating themselves as they faced the room. Aindri knew this was the correct chamber at Vette’s wide grin and the Twi’lek skipped towards the statues. In the Force her light brightened at the prospect of being able to leave behind the cold tomb and stench of rot.

“Give me a minute.”

It had been a while since Vette was in the tomb and she needed to orientate herself. The quicker she did, the quicker she could open the chamber and she seriously wanted out. The Twi’lek hated going in the first place and if it wasn’t for needing credits would have avoided Korriban and especially its tombs like the plague.

Vette moved away from her, and Aindri watched as she wandered peering about the chamber. She tried to follow whatever the Twi’lek was looking at, but quickly found herself lost. It was then she felt it, an almost imperceptible shift in the Force.

Time slowed and the Force stilled; everything, her Trial, the chamber, Vette, grew distant.

A single drop hit, ripples of pure hatred and rage crashing against her. Time accelerated, and she pivoted, lashing out with her heel in a roundhouse kick. Vemrin grunted as her foot slammed into his chest sending him tumbling backwards at the force of her kick.

“Take your time, slave.” Vemrin spat at Vette who turned at the sound and he stood, glaring hatefully, “Just have the entrance uncovered by the time I finish killing your new master.”

“Vemrin,” Aindri drawled, lips curling up in a predatory smirk, “I was waiting for you.”

She expected him to attack from her behind and was not disappointed, really for all his attempts to be sneaky and at deception, Vemrin was remarkably, remarkably predictable.

“Becoming Baras’s apprentice is my destiny,” He snarled unhooking his warblade and activating its vibromotor in a single motion, “And I have worked too hard and for too long to see the position stolen from me, Hallow!”

Vette watched the exchange and wondered who to throw her credits in with. Glancing back and forth it didn’t take her long to decide. The Sith may be, well Sith, but she hadn’t shocked her once since leaving cells, and there was something about her she just liked.

At least Vette didn’t have to worry about the Sith raping and leaving her in the tomb to die like the other guy, who was absolutely fuming, would. Besides even if she split and ran all the way to Dreshdae, she’d never make it off Korriban on her own, let alone alive.

It was that thought which sealed the deal.

Aindri heard a slight rasp and held up a hand as she drew her warblade.

“Do not interfere, Vette.” She instructed, “Concentrate on unlocking the entrance.”

The Twi’lek didn’t need fancy Force powers to recognise a personal fight when she saw one and returned her blasters to their holsters. She turned away and continued to feel the back wall for the mechanism which would open the chamber entrance. She was checking behind one of the statues when the sound of clashing blades started echoing behind her.

Dancing to the side as Vemrin leapt at her, sparks flew into the air when his blade skidded across stone. Despite the other’s admitted advantage in brute strength, Aindri met him blow for blow as he battered her defences, dodging or deflecting his strikes.

Finally facing Vemrin, she was not impressed.

Locking blades, Aindri launched into a counter movement, building momentum and at the very last second tightened her grip and flicked her wrist, creating an unbreakable barrier.

Meeting an iron hard defence, the force from blow was directed back at Vemrin who staggered backwards. Calling on the Force, she allowed the Dark Side to fill her and her eyes glowed a red-rimmed yellow as her power swelled.

It was now her turn.

Pressing the advantage, Aindri unleashed a series of lightning fast blows penetrating his guard and forcing Vemrin back as he tried to defend against the flurry of attacks. Tripping over a loose stone he fell to the ground and attempted to scramble to his feet only to find himself being held down in an invisible vice like grip.

Approaching the soon-to-be corpse of her self-declared rival, Aindri stared at him apathetically. Gone was the anger, the hatred and the insecurity which plagued him when they first met, replaced with only pain and despair.

She could feel the fight leave him fight and she raised her blade as he stared up vacantly.

“I’ve sacrificed so much, only to fail?” He rasped.

Bring her warblade down, Aindri thrusted it down into his heart, its final act ending his life.

Vette had found the switches just in time to see the Sith go on the offensive and just stare as the temperature dropped several degrees, which she hadn’t even thought was possible. Even if the Sith had instructed her too not interfere, Vette didn’t she’d even be able to move let alone help.

The sheer power, the Sith demonstrated through throwing Vemrin around like he was a rag doll made her scared of the young woman all over again. That was not what truly terrified her though.

Yes, she had seen the Sith kill and yes Vemrin kind of deserved it, she still rankled being called slave, but it though the kill had been clean there was a sense of brutality about it. In that moment as she emotionlessly watched him squirm, she truly was a Sith.

“Vette,” Aindri called her eyes returning to their natural hue, “The entrance.”

Her voice was gentle and soft as she spoke, Aindri knew the Twi’lek was terrified of her at that moment, her light quivering, and held her gaze to show Vette she wouldn’t hurt her.

“Already found it,” Vette said quickly, offering an unsure, “Um, nice work, my Lord.”

“Aindri Hallow,” She replied, the other cocking her head, “You heard him call me, Hallow.”

“Neat.” The Twi’lek replied and returned to the wall to press the correct switches.

Stepping back Vette returned to her side as a low rumble reverberated throughout the chamber, two statues rotating in sync to face the other. They slid backwards, the back-wall parting in sections along seams expertly crafted to be invisible to the naked eye.

Some shifted sideways into the wall, others rose into the crumbling ceiling, the remainder sinking into the floor, revealing a hidden chamber. They stared into the darkness, flames flickering to life by some hidden mechanism along the wall, chasing shadows into the high vaulted ceiling.

“Well,” Vette began, scratching her head before turning and making jazz hands, “Ta da?”

Aindri gave a small smile, “Good work. I will make sure you’re rewarded for your success.”

Vette cracked a smile, “Nice to be appreciated. Umm.” She fidgeted, “Can I keep watch?”

Thinking a moment, Aindri conceded to Vette’s request, the Twi’lek would be of little help regardless from that point. She entered the chamber, its stone floor covered in a fine layer of dust, the Dark Side flowing like a river around her feet.

Rows of statues, their heads bowed in supplication lined the sides of the room, a battalion of slaves and soldiers taken to the grave. At the far end, a stone sarcophagus inlaid with electrum scrollwork in ancient arcane tongue on a landing atop a flight of stairs.

She ascended the steps, the dark side pouring out of the sarcophagus to saturate the air, a myriad of whispers making dark indistinct promises tickled her ear. She could feel something, an almost hypnotic pull, calling to her through the Force and whatever it was, was inside here.

Giving the lid a gently shove with the Force it grated against the stone and fell to the floor with a thud revealing a grandly adorned skeleton, armour carved in ancient Sith style with exquisite craftmanship, a pureblood judging from the bone structure.

Holding out her hand, Aindri reached out with the Force and waited for whatever was calling to her to come to her. She didn’t have to wait long as something rattled inside sarcophagus and a cylindrical object rose into the air, beautiful in its simplicity.

A Lightsaber.

The weapon flew into her hands, her fingers beginning to curl around cool silver metal, the hilt at home in her hand, beauty in its elegance. The moment it hit her flesh, images crashed into her and she was assaulted with rapidly passing visions of what she did not know and could little but watch.

A forbidding structure in dense jungle, a man in officers’ uniform, a light version of herself, glittering snowy peaks, a young Jedi with a green lightsaber, a brilliant disobedient solider.

A republic ship, a station drawing energy from a star and the masked man commanding it, a Moff, a starship graveyard. A toxic planet where betrayal awaits, a prison planet, a world at war with itself, a Core invasion, a throne room where a usurper stands. A crystal cavern.

The myriad of images fading from her mind’s eye and her memory as quickly as they had appeared. Aindri blinked and found herself holding the ancient weapon, its weight comforting in her hand.

Igniting the saber, the deep red blade hummed softly painting her features in a red glow, leaving trials of crimson light in its wake as she gave it a few experimental swings. She somewhat marvelling at the ease with which it balanced in her grip.

She would have to make a few adjustments to the blade and likely replace some parts, but a feral smile touched her lips. Exultation thrummed through her veins as she deactivated the blade, her blade, and clipped to her belt.

She had succeeded and the prize, the lightsaber, was hers. She would be Sith at last.

* * *

 

Vette stuck close to her side as Aindri traversed the Academies winding corridors, taking advantage of the protection she afforded the Twi’lek. Acolytes gave them a wide berth, wary stares drawn to the lightsaber swinging gently at her hip, whispers following her.

Likely about the fight which had taken place a couple of hours ago.

A highlight of their return from the tomb, they’d been accosted by a frothing-at-the-mouth Esekella and her four lackeys, no doubt thinking she’d be too drained from the tomb to properly defend herself. They learned from their mistake the hard way.

Tremel’s daughter fought hard yes, but she relied on numbers rather than individual aptitude. Poorly trained, Aindri tore through them easily, her lightsaber trailing crimson light, slicing through them like butter.

The crystal within singing in delight as her blade burned flesh.

Baras awaited the return of his newest apprentice, Hallow’s presence arrived in the corridor leading to his office. The Acolyte’s calmness contrasted the foreign nervous energy next to her. Tucking his hand in the small of his back, Baras’s gaze drifted over the Twi’lek and homed in on the ancient blade adorning Hallow’s hip.

“Apprentice, I am beside myself.” He wasn’t truly, retrieving the saber was impressive but not the most dangerous task; the words however would stroke her ego, “Not only did you get the Twi’lek to cooperate, but you’ve completed your task and claimed the ancient lightsaber.” Baras smiled knowingly behind his mask, “Vemrin was not in my chambers as I instructed. I take it he sought to stop you and claim the ancient weapon as his own.”

Aware of Vette shifting her weight behind her, the only overt sign of her annoyance, Aindri spoke with measured flippancy to draw her master’s attention, “Tried and failed, Vemrin was nothing if not consistent. He is now food for the tombs’ beasts.”

And there would be those were toasting the news of Vemrin’s death that night.

Baras chuckled in amusement walking from his desk to stand before her, folding his arms behind his back. Good, he did not need a disobedient apprentice nor a disgruntled acolyte plotting to attack.

“Bravo. I see you may indeed become one of the strongest Sith in the galaxy. Your trials are over, and you are now my apprentice,” He smiled and spoke in an indulgent tone, “But this is only the beginning. With you as my right hand, we shall strike fear into the Empire’s enemies.” Baras promised darkly; the Empire’s and of course his own.

Aindri bowed her head, “I anticipate your tutelage, Master. I will not disappoint.”

Whether Baras would instruct her, the Darth didn’t strike her as the teaching type, Aindri would still glean lessons from him no matter how indirect the guidance. Regardless, there was one point on which they agreed wholeheartedly, her mind flitting back to the images she’d seen in the tomb; this was only the beginning.

“See you do not apprentice,” Said Baras, voice cold, “A shuttle will be leaving for the fleet within the day, you’ve been given clearance. From there you will travel to Dromund Kass and meet me at the Citadel there.” He lifted his chin at the slave who fidgeted under the attention, “Do whatever you wish with the Twi’lek slave, in celebration of your success. Take her to Dromund Kaas if you desire.”

“You have my gratitude, Master,” Aindri replied faithfully while hiding a grimace at owning another sentient being so completely, “I will leave Korriban on the first shuttle.”

“Good, we have no times for delays. You are dismissed, Apprentice.”

Baras drifted into thought. Whilst he sensed nothing but obedience in her, the Darth knew he would have to handle Hallow with care. But his endgame, which took years of careful preparation, was finally in his sights and regardless of how powerful she became he would not be denied.

The next shuttle left late morning, so they had a few hours until they needed to leave and Aindri lead them to the empty dormitory, classes having started for the day. Eyeing the bags under Vette’s eyes and tired slump to her shoulders, Aindri fixed her with a stern look and all but ordered her to take a shower and get some sleep.

Vette blinked, startled, “Wha? But....”

“Shower and sleep. Do not worry about the clothes.” Aindri repeated firmly, she would let Vette to keep them until the Twi’lek got her own, “I will wake you when it’s time to leave.”

If the Twi’lek wasn’t so tired, Aindri was sure Vette would’ve put more effort into protesting. But her fatigue combined with what was likely the first time in a while she had access to a proper bed, led Vette to doing as she asked in record time. The moment her head hit the pillow; she was asleep.

Leaving the sleeping figure to their rest, Aindri took her turn in the refresher to wash away her own layer of dust, sweat and blood. She emerged in fresh clothing, drying her hair and used her updated clearance to place an order for food to be brought up, the shuttle unlikely to provide any form of sustenance.

Setting aside her datapad, she laid her lightsaber on a desk; it was so different from her one at home, chunkier and heavy. She would replace the hilt for certain but whether she discarded or kept the inner components depended on their condition. It was lucky Aindri had planned to build her second on Korriban, she had everything she needed.

From her bed-drawer she withdrew a metal lockbox, disengaging the biometric locks to access the contents. The bottom of the lid with lined with foam, a memory-medium containing several parts packed close together.

Crossing her legs, the Force twisted around Aindri and the lightsaber lifted, disassembling itself to separate out neatly on the desk. The delicacy of the weapon’s pieces had been drilled into her head like it had all Acolytes, she knew to handle a lightsaber’s inner workings as little as possible.

Aindri herself got into the practice of checking them after a training session which she knew would serve her well when embarking on long operations. It was something _Ari’_ encouraged and at his urging always carried a box containing spares of the parts most likely to give out.

The Force twisted again and the components in the lockbox rose to lay themselves beside those of Naga Sadow’s lightsaber. Side-by-side it was easy to see why the Force was used to manipulate the parts, some so small one felt ham-handed trying to hold them.

The largest piece was the hilt which unlike Sadow’s had a contoured grip, moulded to hit her hand like a glove. The silvery finish had a slight texture from the anti-slip measure since Aindri semi-regularly wore gloves.

Other than the hilt, most of the interior workings looked to be in decent condition for a thousand years old lightsaber and only a few components needed to be replaced. The rich red power crystal was not one of them which was impressive considering their fragility.

Natural crystals preferred by the Jedi were more stable, but the synthetic more powerful.

The crystal was cut into two lenses which shaped the beam into a standing wave. The purpose of the crystal was to create the required a single wavelength. The wavelength was determined by the thickness of the crystal layers. The colour itself came from the beam generator which was tuned to match the crystals.

Lifting her hands, Aindri drew on the Force and lifted the components she had chosen. They slotted together easily with soft clicks. The pieces were small and many, but she made sure not to invert the emitter matrix.

Doing so was a leading cause of death when building ones first lightsaber; explosions were common, and she had heard enough cautionary tales from _Ari’_ and others for that to stick.

Opening her eyes which had slipped shut during the process, Aindri pushed away from the table and ignited the crimson blade, a sense of satisfaction rushing through her. The lightsaber felt much more like her own after the modifications.

She packed everything away, moving quietly so as not to disturb Vette, reengaging the boxes locks and placing it in her bag for the journey to Dromund Kass. Following the lockbox were her clothes and the new puzzle she had brought at the market which would occasionally establish itself at the base of the Academy for the perusal of its Acolytes.

Aindri rose when she sensed two familiar lights, turning to see Tormi and Venitas enter.

“Are you not meant to be in lessons?” She inquired with an arched brow.

“And miss you leaving Korriban?” Tormi replied teasingly, flopping onto the bed, “No chance.” She fixed the human with a smirk, “Not before I can say goodbye and good riddance. I finally get to see the back of you, Hallow.”

Venitas rolled his eyes in exasperation and nodded to the lightsaber on Aindri’s hip, “So you really did pass your final trial, huh?” The pureblood smiled ruefully, “Seems Tormi and I have some catching up to do.”

“The academy rumour mill?” Aindri guessed.

Tormi smiled smugly, “No thanks to my own efforts.”

She was not surprised Tormi was at the centre of, and controlled, Academy gossip.

“I can’t believe you’re an Apprentice already,” Said Venitas, shaking his head and eyeing her from his place leaning against the wall, “You’ve become something of a legend. No other Acolyte has completed their trials as fast as you have.”

Aindri shrugged, “You will be apprentices soon enough.”

There was no doubt in her mind they would be passing their own final Trial soon.

“When I do, I’ll be rise to be one of the most powerful Sith ever seen.” Tormi smirked.

Vette who had woken up half-way through the conversation listened as the trio talked amicably. She was surprised they were even holding a civil conversation, given how big Sith were on betrayal and backstabbing, she picked up on some stuff while trapped in a cell.

But these three almost seemed to be friends, if not then at least allies.

There were even promises to keep in contact as the other left, to her it was honestly weird. As if sensing her thoughts, her now owner gave her a look and Vette smiled at her sheepishly as she sat up from the sheets.

“I hope you are well rested,” Said Aindri, “Once we have eaten, we will be leaving.”

“Um, right,” Said Vette, scratching her lekku.

She did look forward to leaving Korriban, even if beyond that her future was uncertain.


	7. The Black Talon

“(We will soon be arriving at Vaiken Spacedock,)” Came the crackle of the intercom, the shuttle pilot’s muffled voice flooding the cabin, “(Please ensure you have all your belonging with you when exiting the shuttle.)”

Aindri leaned back in her seat at the announcement, back bumping against the tough fabric, datapad and its contents resting forgotten in her lap. Opposite Vette was stretched out across several seats, head resting on one armrest and leg hanging over the other.

They were in a public shuttle, but the flight timing meant the two were its only occupants.

“Thank god. I hate public shuttles, they’re always kriffin’ cold,” Vette grumbled, tugging her jacket closer, hands stuffed under armpits, “I swear the temperatures get calibrated high enough people aren’t bothered to complain, but low enough you’re miserable.”

Humming in agreement, Aindri picked up her datapad and opened a new message. She had barely begun reading when the pad was snatched from her by a blue hand. It seemed Vette had evidently decided if she couldn’t get warm, she might as well entertain herself.

Vette’s brow promptly shot up when she saw the message and looked at the Sith in exasperation, “Jeez, you Sith really take good breeding to a whole new level.”

With a reproachful look at her companion, Aindri reached out with the Force and flicked her wrist. The Twi’lek yelped when the data flew through the air and Aindri caught the pad, giving the message a baleful look before deleting it.

The missive had been from Lord Abaron congratulating her on Tremel’s death and ridding the Order of another supposed ‘impurity’. Meeting the Sith Lord in the Academy, she apparently, she had just enough Sith blood to aid him with his research into Sith bloodlines and had spent much of that time espousing purist propaganda.

Aindri wanted to scoff but held back as she switched off the datapad and packed away the offending device, such attitudes were enough to give her a headache on a good day. The circumstances of one’s birth were irrelevant, so long as one had the strength to do so, anyone could be Sith regardless of one’s family or species.

Though saying so aloud may be hypocritical given her heirship to a great Sith bloodline.

Restlessness and desire wove through the Force, originating from Vette who fidgeted in her seat. The Twi’lek obviously wanted to ask a question, one which had been burning in her mind since Korriban. But she was still, hesitant and unsure how-to best phrase it.

“What is it, Vette?” She asked, eyes slipping shut.

Vette wavered, having only just built up the courage but still had no idea how to bring up the topic, let alone how the Sith would react. Yes, she showed a somewhat skewed sense of humour, but she was still, well, Sith. At least she didn’t seem like an outright sadist.

Obviously, Vette was no stranger to violence and had even killed several times before to get a job done. But, except for a few slavers, she didn't usually seek to kill others. Still, she had nothing less to lose, could use the extra money and a potential contact among the Sith should Aindri rise to high status which was likely given her skill.

Dragging her feet from the seats, Vette twisted around in her seat, so she fully faced the close-eyed Sith. Crossing her legs, she made a few false starts before finally managing to put into words what she’d wanted to ask even.

“Well, I’ve been thinking....” Vette paused, fidgeting in her seat, “Maybe you want to take this shock collar off?” Fidget, “You know as a sign of thanks for my hard work on Korriban? Not that I don’t enjoy the perpetual fear of electrocution,” She finished lamely.

Aindri opened an eye and glanced at the Twi’lek who had proven to be of invaluable help during her trial in Naga Sadow’s tomb. She was not without skill and with expertise Aindri did not would be a useful ally. In truth she was planning to free the Twi’lek anyway.

Closing her eyes, she visualised the collars inner locking mechanism and with a small flick of her wrist there was a quite click as it popped off Vette’s neck, dropping into her lap.

“You have earned it; it is not freedom though.”

Vette stared down at her neck and then collar in astonishment at what she’d just witnessed, because yeah, she had heard about the Force, who hadn’t but damn.

“Okay wow.” She inspected the collar in awe, “Now I feel stupid for not asking sooner.”

While she doubted Vette would do act against her, if anything it was likely the furthest thing from her mind, Aindri still gave her a warning, “Do not make me regret it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll try not to give you a reason to slap that thing back on.” Vette hurriedly reinsured her before pausing, “Well, I’m not in prison or collared and its sort of miserable weather.” She shrugged when the Sith arched a brow, “So I guess we should... uh, what happens now?”

“You will remain in my service,” Aindri replied easily, “I do not know what Baras will have me do and it is in my best to interest to have a skilled fighter at my back.” She paused, looking over the Twi’lek, “Amongst your other skills. You will receive compensation.”

“What?” Vette blinked, “Err, well, okay. I got nothing else to do I suppose...”

The craft shuddered, a metallic whine and thud followed the rise of the shuttle wings. Landing, the seal of the shuttle door released, and its ramp hit the floor. Harsh bright lighting flooded the doorway and the intercom crackled to life, as the shuttle pilot cleared them to disembark.

Easily one of the largest hangers she’d been into date, Vette gawped at the places size as she followed the Sith down the ramp. Several shuttles were scattered across the floor in a sense of organised chaos, some seen to by workers in technician overalls. One shuttle lifted from the metal deck, gliding through the hangers rayshields and into open space.

Through the shields one could see the steady flow of ships in and out of dock, speedy frigates, heavy warship, midsized merchant vessels. Every kind of ship imaginable and in every kind of condition with some seeming to be held together with nothing by engineering tap and good luck.

Striding across the hanger floor, Vette watched bemused when the small crowd parted before them as they made their way out of the hanger. Coming to an elevator, the on-duty troopers waved them ahead the moment they saw the lightsaber.

The Empire maintained an archipelago of ships and small stations between Korriban and Dromund Kass but Vaiken Spacedock was a massive station. It was befitting given the stations role as the staging area of the Imperial Fleet and traffic in general.

Exiting the lift they came to the main deck and Aindri led them across the concourse.

The place was a melting pot to soldiers, officers, Sith and civilians, a true social nexus where people of the Empire haggled, argued and chattered, sharing purchases like friends. The atmosphere was filled with a unique sense of carefreeness Aindri could only associate with the Empire’s main hub of inter-planetary travel.

Mercenaries who were open about their profession were everywhere going about their business. They would occasionally take issue with one another, but it was very rare they caused security to crack down on them and all knew to let them grandstand a little.

Bounty hunters traipsed around, convoying carbonite blocks, complaining to one another about cumbersome cargo or making plans for their payouts once they had them. Many Mandalorians peppered cantinas and cafes, helmets set aside to reveal a strange mix of humans and aliens without paying attention to the norm of looking down on nonhumans.

The two manoeuvred their way past hawkers and shopkeeps, many who had callers attracting the attention of passers-by, peddling just about anything. Vette was rather amazed at the sheer variety of things on sale, items from across the galaxy adding further splashes of exoticism to the already eclectic selection.

A group of troopers on shore leave openly leered at Vette, one sent a wolf whistle in her direction. Catching it, Aindri half turned towards the soldiers casually resting a hand on her hip drawing their attention to her lightsaber. Nervousness pervaded their signatures and they gave the two a wide berth as Aindri led them towards the station’s main cantina.

Paradoxically, the main cantina sat right in the centre, but the noise was quieter.

Outside everyone seemed talk at once and shouting to be heard over the general din. Blaring from the intercom system were announcements repeated in several languages and each shop had their own ambient music playing which clashed with everything else.

In the cantina all of that drained away until only its patrons and its music were heard.

Find them a seat in one of the more private areas where she could observe the crowd, Aindri watched people’s comings and goings as Vette went to get drinks. Various patrons, predominantly soldiers and even the occasional officer relaxed around their drinks, laughing and chatting the minutes away.

There were a few Sith who followed the common practice of sitting with their backs to a wall so they could not be sneaked upon. The rules of conduct for non-Sensitives around Sith on the spacedock where a little looser when not on Dromund Kass or Korriban. In other words, people felt freer to approach them which in turn could lead to attacks.

Watching Vette weave through the crowd, Aindri could even see a few bounty hunters scattered through the room and Aindri eyed them cautiously. Even as she knew the odds of anything happening were slim, hunters had always been a tricky bunch, almost rivalling the Sith in their number and variety of quirks and habits.

Observing them reminded her of the poor state of Vette’s attire and when the Twi’lek returned, Aindri reached into her robes pocket, removing and sliding over credit chit.

“We have a couple of hours before the next flight to Dromund Kass,” Said Aindri when Vette peered at her curiously, “Use this chance to buy clothing and any other necessities you may need for the next few days.”

It gave her no small amount of amusement when Vette’s eyes flitted from her to the chit.

“Seriously? I get to shop? And you’re paying?” She asked her in disbelief

Vette’s face split into an excited grin when Aindri nodded. She needed the gear, everything she had brought with her to Korriban got confiscated when she was caught and hadn’t gotten any of it back even when released into the Sith’s service. Aindri had actually been surprisingly apologetic about it.

Anyway, there was no way in karking hell Vette would turn down the chance at free stuff.

Chugging down her drink, she stood and was about to leave when Aindri, caught her wrist with a stern look on her face; one she had only ever received from her older sister before.

“Do not go crazy.”

Replying with a two-fingered salute, Vette bounded off.

With a quirk to her lips, Aindri shook her head at the Twi’lek’s antics as she headed for the Auction and Exchange district. It was a whole massive sprawling space full of kiosks, auction droids, and a few individuals calling out prices and motioning to buyers while still more offered bids. Vette would be able to purchase most of what she would need there.

Alone and unworried of interruption or discovery, Aindri withdrew a small long-range holo-communicator from her robes. She keyed in the code for her own personal, and more importantly secure, channel and placed a call to a frequency she knew by heart.

The device blinked once, twice before connecting her uncles blue image flaring to life.

Darth Taral was an elderly Sith with aristocratic features denoting their shared ancestry. She subconsciously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, its crimson colour and her sharp facial features the only physical indication of the Sith blood running through her veins.

“(Hello, _Woyunok_ ’s _._ It’s good to hear from you.)”

His voice was warm, tendrils curling up at the sight of her.

Aindri smirked at the nickname he’d given her years ago, “Not so little anymore, _Ari’_.”

“(Ah you will always be little to me, _Woyunoks._ But yes, I heard, congratulations on your apprenticeship.)” He smiled, slipping his hands into the sleeves of his robes, “(I heard it on the grapevine. You completed your trials faster than any acolyte in recent memory young one. Stories are bound to spread.)” Taral’s smile dimmed, a frown, invisible to those who didn’t intimately know him, knitting his brow, “(Have you spoken to your father?)”

A scowl slipped onto Aindri’s features and she shook her head. She was going to put off the inevitable confrontation that came from her sperm donor, Darth Canis, seeking to exploit this to further his own goals, for as long as she was able. Her uncle sighed but knowing her relationship with his younger brother and his nature, didn’t press the issue.

“(I thought not. Oh well, I’m sure he will contact you eventually.)” His niece nodded coolly in response and he eyed her for a moment before switching topics, “(Nice as it is for you to call, _Woyunoks_ , what is your reason?)”

“It can’t be to simply ask how you’re doing _Ari_?” She smiled, chuckling when her uncle raised an eyebrow before her face shifted into a serious expression, “If you have heard of my apprenticeship, you know the identity of my new master.”

“(You do not think you can trust him?)” Taral asked, stroking his tendrils thoughtfully.

Her mind drifted towards the secretive way the Force clung to Baras.

“I want to be prepared.”

The older Sith nodded in understanding, “(I’m sure you are already aware Darth Baras oversaw negotiations for the Treaty of Coruscant?)”

“He must have a lot of influence.”

“(Indeed. Baras is a manipulator and one of the Empires best spymasters, his network extends across both Republic and Imperial space. There are even rumours he has Force Visions, though I have been unable to verify their veracity.)”

“I will have to be careful.” She murmured quietly.

Taral nodded his approval, “(Yes, but do not allow him to suspect your mistrust. You have only recently become an apprentice, Woyunoks and while you may be powerful, you have a lot to learn,)” He warned sharply, “(Be patient, learn from him, use him.)”

Aindri planned to, she would learn every lesson Baras had to offer whether consciously given or no, if only to survive and defeat him if, when, the Darth betrayed her. She inclined her head in understanding, tucking her uncle’s advice to the back of her mind.

“(Now onto more pleasant topics,)” Taral continued, she didn’t blink at the sudden good cheer in his tone, long since used to his typically laid-back nature, “(For your return to the capital, I’ve arranged a berth for you on the _Black Talon_. It is a gage transport, faster and more comfortable than a shuttle which would take several days.)” He cocked his head, eyes flitting somewhere off holo, “(It is leaving from Vaiken on the hour.)”

“Thank you, _Ari’_.” Aindri replied sincerely and there was a soft buzz on the edge of her senses, Vette’s presence appearing at the cantinas edge and saw a flash of blue in her periphery, “I have to go, I will tell you more about my time on Korriban at a later date.”

Taral chuckled lowly, “(I look forward to it. In the meantime, enjoy your success, _Woyunoks_ ,)” He advised, a smirk playing on his lips, “(You will have little time to once you reach Dromund Kass. The early days of an Apprentice are always hectic.)”

Her uncle disappeared in a flicker of blue static and Aindri switched off the communicator, slipping it into her robes. Vette snaked around the tables and cantina patrons towards her, arriving with a wide grin and new drink in hand.

“What do you think?” Vette asked, twirling with a flourish.

Aindri’s eyes drifted up and down her form, inspecting Vette’s new attire. The plain clothes she lent her on Korriban were replaced with new pants and dark red shirt under a short dark blue jacket. She was also pleased to see that Vette had brought not only armoured but comfortable boots.

“You have new blasters.” She replied.

They sat snugly in two new holsters on a new belt; Aindri saw they were of good make.

“Yeah well, I prefer using ones I’ve picked myself.” Vette rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, “Err no offense? Plus, Hock and Kechler are my favourite manufacturers so when I saw a pair of USB-9 I just grabbed them. I also got a multi-species earpiece.” She shifted awkwardly, “So anyway... how long until the next shuttle?”

Taking a long draught of her drink, Aindri hummed, “We will be taking a different transport. It leaves in forty.”

“Really,” Vette asked curiously, “Which is it?”

Vette received an enigmatic quirk of the lips, which she was quickly associating the Aindri’s version of a smile, in response but no direct answer. Instead finishing the last of her drink, the Sith moved out of the booth and began striding through the cantina.

Hurriedly chugging her beer and almost choking for downing it too fast, Vette sprinted to catch up with the Sith and followed as Aindri lead them through the crowded station.

* * *

 

Aindri stifled frustrated sigh from beneath her hood, not for the first time questioning whether the Force loved or hated her. They had been expecting to arrive in the Dromund System within a day only to be drafted by Grand Moff Kilran, Commander of the Fifth Fleet and so-called Butcher of Coruscant, and into capturing a warship no less.

Only hard-earned discipline and self-control stopped her from giving NR-02 a baleful look.

Still, they were hunting a traitor to the Empire and Aindri would do her duty. But before she did Aindri had to deal with the agitated captain pacing behind her, intent on wearing a hole in the steel deck. He threw a glance every now and then at Kilran’s droid who watched the exchange silently, no doubt relaying everything on its sensors to its master.

“The _Black Talon_ would be destroyed chasing a battle ship,” Revinal Orzik grounded out glaring at the droid, he may be pissed but not enough to make him lose reason and take it out on the Sith who he was sure was just as much of a victim, “I fought in the war before, and I’ll fight again but I won’t do suicide missions!”

Hands clinched behind her back, Aindri watched impassively the stars glittering beyond the transparisteel, “We will not engage the _Brentaal Star_....”

“May I remind you violation of direct…”

“We impressive,” Aindri continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “Attack indirectly.”

The sound of boots fell silent as Orzik stopped pacing and Aindri felt his gaze on her while she dredged up information on Gage-class transports stored somewhere in her memory.

“Gages have the same superstructure as a Terminus-class destroyer, fewer weapons but same shields and armour. They also have a complement of ISF interceptors and a crew of three hundred eighty. In-equipped to directly confront a Thranta-class cruiser but not to provide time for a small force to secure the enemies fighter bay.”

“Sixty percent of our marines are shock troopers,” Supplied Orzik, rubbing his chin in thought, “Supremacies provide escort and distraction, help clear the bay for landing. With any luck, the _Black Talon_ won’t even come within range of their turbo lasers.” It would work but be close, he sighed, “Seems we haven’t much choice, damn Kilran and his fleet.”

“Order passengers to their cabins,” Aindri breathed, “And prepare the crew for combat.”

“Understood,” Said Orzik, turning to his crew, “Hetter set an intercept course.”

Stars streaked into swirling mass, it would be a short jump, and the ships communications officer Brukarra piped up with a question, “Who will lead the boarding party?”

Aindri was already striding towards the turbolift when she called back, “Prep a shuttle!”

Vette, leaning against a support strut near the back of the bridge sighed and followed her into the lift, “We’re seriously, seriously, going up against a battle cruiser? Are you crazy?!”

She arched an eyebrow at the Twi’lek who shook her head in disbelief.

“(All crew prepare for exiting hyperspace. One Thantra-class warship is on the scanners.)”

“Yep, definitely crazy,” Vette muttered as the lift doors snapped shut and when stumbling as a blast rocked the ship chirped in a strained voice, “On the bright side at least if this ship explodes, we won’t be on it.”

“(My Lord,” Came Orzik’s voice from over the comms, “We’re engaged with the _Brentaal Star_. We are making evasive manoeuvres to prevent pods latching onto the hull and cut at us with sabotage droids but we’ve three shuttles en-route.)” There was a burst of static as the ship rocked, “(We haven’t sufficient defences to stop an assault party from landing.)”

“Let them land,” Aindri ordered, changing their destination, “I will handle any boarders.”

“(Understood, my Lord. Security will meet you at the entrance to the cargo bay.)”

Turbolift doors opened with an ominous hiss and Vette darted from the confined space, sliding to a stop behind the makeshift barricade. She gave a startled soldier a quick wave before drawing her blasters and releasing a volley of shots into the boarders.

Behind her Aindri stalked forwards, lightsaber igniting with a hum, black cloak whispering against the floor. Within a minute several bodies hit metal, small wisps of smoke rising from their wounds where the surrounding cloth was scorched, remaining corpses riddled with blaster holes.

Gradually, they pushed the boarders back through the ship Aindri’s saber a blur of red light, cleaving a line straight through a Republic body, nearly ripping the man in half. They lost a couple of soldiers but not as fast as their enemies who were soon outnumbered.

“Spread out.”

The soldiers followed her orders without hesitation, splitting into groups of two to cover the hanger while Vette stayed by her side. They gunned down the boarders with ruthless efficiency, clearing the cargo bay quickly and Aindri cut down the last Republic soldier.

Aindri tapped her comm, “The boarders have been defeated. Our status?”

“(My Lord, shields are currently holding, and we will be entering fighter range soon. A shuttle has been prepped for the assault.)”

“Good,” She replied already walking with long strides to the starboard hanger, Vette checking over her blaster cells as they moved, “Getting through to _Brentaal_ will be difficult, getting back with a prisoner nearly impossible. I will use an escape pod and pilot it to the Talon. Have the shuttle grab it with a docking clamp.”

“(Yes, my Lord.)”

“So... suicidal assaulting still on?” Vette asked.

Hidden by her hood, Aindri’s lips curled into an unbidden predatory smirk, her veins pumping with adrenaline both from the fight and anticipation and purred, “Indeed.”

The hanger doors opened, revealing the chaotic yet ordered interior of a pre-combat hanger bay, pilots and troopers scrabbling to do last minute checks as the _Black Talon_ entered fighter range. As Aindri and Vette entered an armoured lieutenant rushed up, skidding to a halt with a quick salute.

“My Lord, Lieutenant Dyral Surran. _Stormjaw_ is prepped and we’re at your command.”

She nodded curtly and the three of them climbed the shuttles boarding ramp, a ground crew mechanic disconnecting a hose and wiping her brow called up, “You’re ready to fly.”

“ _Stormjaw_ to bridge. How much longer?” Asked the pilot as the shuttle’s hatch slid shut.

“(Brukara here. Estimated one minute until fighter range. You are cleared for departure.)”

“Get us airborne,” Aindri ordered, entering the cockpit.

The pilot’s fingers flew over the flight controls and engines flared to life with a roar. The view tilting upward as the shuttle rose a few metres from the hanger deck accompanied by a familiar mechanical drone of flight wings folding down. Bay doors parted before them and the shuttle surged out into open space.

Supremacy fighters streaked past to engage the talon-class fighters swarming around the _Brentaal Star_. Imperial and Republic fighters danced in a lethal could of crimson and jade punctuated with the occasional disintegration of a fighter.

Six hung back as an escort, destroying enemy fighters which got to close, too small to be tracked by turbolasers. The pilot accelerated, pushing _Stormjaw_ too its top speed as it wove around raging bolts, the shuttle rocking when enemy fire glanced a hit to its shields.

Looking past the deadly display unfolding before them sudden movement in the viewport caught Aindri’s eye and she narrowed her gaze as the Thantra’s blast doors shuddered.

“The _Brentaal Star_ is closing its blast doors,” Called the pilot, “They’re onto us.”

“Have our squadrons target the blast door controls and shield generator,” She ordered, keeping her cool even as the blast doors slowly lowered, “Use our own guns if you must.”

Two fighters peeled away from their escort, letting loose with twin laser cannons onto the bay’s shield generator, which cracked and belched sparks into space under the assault. Bay doors grinded to a halt with just enough space for the shuttle to slip inside.

Two fighters peeled away from their escort, letting loose with twin laser cannons onto the bay’s shield generator, which cracked and belched sparks into space under the assault. Bay doors grinded to a halt with just enough space for the shuttle to slip in and out.

Angling for the opening, there was a deafening screech and the shuttle jolted as its wing scraped against the blaster doors edge. Troopers braced for impact, the shuttle jarring as it roughly hit the fighter bay floor.

“Urgh my head.”

Vette groaned rubbing where her lekku had collided with the shuttle ceiling, before she felt her head pushed down and to side. She glanced up to see Aindri examining it and nodding in satisfaction when the Sith didn’t see anything bad.

“My Lord, we have company.”

Turning away from her companion, Aindri moved to the viewport tugging her hood down further over her face as she frowned at the two squads of Republic troopers rushing in to surround them. Glancing back, she saw the assault troopers had their rifles primed and raised, ready to fight.

“Lieutenant,” Said Aindri, unclipping her saber, Vette drawing her guns and nodded at the pilot to open the hatch, “You and your men fan out once we emerge. Vette join them.”

Light flooded the interior and igniting her saber, Aindri shot forward.

Bolt after bolt, Aindri deflected to the side and into republic troopers, twisting around the barrage of blaster fire and redirecting them as she danced among the volley of deadly plasma. Her arms were a blur as she reacted purely out of instinct, never slowing down as she cut through the enemy.

She barely noticed the Imperial troopers pouring out from behind her, rifles raised and gunning down enemy troops with crimson blasts. Or Vette darting around the hanger, ducking behind crates and refuelling stations, taking devastating pot shots when and where she could.

When the onslaught finally ended, the Mon Calamari commanders’ corpse hitting the floor when she removed the blade of her saber, Aindri stalked back to Lieutenant Surran.

“Causalities?”

Surran saluted, “Four, my Lord.”

Aindri hummed quietly and sent a silent thanks to those who’d died, “Retreat to a safe position and be ready to pick up our escape pod. Keep a line with the _Black Talon_ open.”

No sooner than she turned away from the lieutenant, her comm chimed and there was a crackle of static before the voice of Orzik’s second in command came over the channel.

“(My Lord, NR-02 has been monitoring enemy chatter. There’s strong indication the _Brentaal Star_ is preparing to jettison the traitor in an escape pod.”

“Noted. Recall what’s left of our fighters and prepare to retreat quickly.”

“(Already done, my Lord.)”

“Good,” There was another burst of static as the channel fell silent and she led them over to a console turning to her Twi’lek companion, “Pull up a map on this display. Find the quickest route to the escape pods.”

“Yeah hang on a sec,” Vette groused, nimble fingers flying, “Civvy lockdowns are kark of a lot easier than military…”

Near unintelligible green and yellow strings of aurebesh surged across the display, until the patterns resolved themselves into a partial schematic of the ship. Vette studied the readouts, tracing a pathway through the ship.

“Right, if we take these corridors and these turbolifts we’ll get there pretty quickly.” She said pointing at them and vaguely waving at another area, “There’s a tram but it’s on lockdown like the rest and hacking it will take too long.”

Nodding, Aindri spun on and begun moving through the ship with long, quick strides, her sight and other senses constantly surveying her surroundings as Vette trotted after her.

They encountered further crewmembers, but these were relatively few and far between, and less equipped than those they’d fought in the hanger bay. It seemed the Republic had been banking on being able to stop their advance in the hanger, her blade, singing with bloodlust, tearing through them easily as they travelled to the engine deck.

“(My Lord,)” Captain Orzik’s said over the comms after a brief burst of static, “(We have a transmission coming in. Long range and using a Republic frequency....)” He paused, “(But not the Brentaal Star.)”

“Put it through,” She ordered, pulling out and activating her holocom.

A ghostly blue image of a short haired woman wearing sleeveless robes flickered to life, granting her an audience with someone she’d only seen in _Ari’_ s’ files. Specifically, the files on those who, regardless of affiliation, could threaten the Empire.

“(This is Jedi Grand Master Satele Shan hailing unidentified Imperial vessel.)” Said the well-known galactic figure, “(I’m enroute to your location with sixteen Republic vessels. I ask you to retreat before more lives are lost.)”

Aindri arched a brow at the sudden escalation of force but replied, “I seek only one.”

Realisation dawned in the Grand Masters eyes which narrowed, “(The Brentaal Star and the ‘General’ are under my protection. I just crippled three Imperial dreadnoughts; I don’t wish to destroy you. The peace between the Republic and Empire is fragile enough.)”

“He threatens our security,” Aindri replied evenly, “As a defender of the Empire I cannot, will not, in good conscience allow such a risk to go unchecked.”

“(And I will not allow you to harm an innocent. Incidents like this are happening across the galaxy, but only because we let them. Leave the _Brentaal Star_ to me.)” Shan said back.

Aindri felt a subtle buzz in the back of her mind, the hallmark of Force Persuasion. But weeks of staying on Korriban in the near constant presence of the Valley of the Dark Lords had hardened her mind against such mental manipulations and attacks.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Jedi.” She said with a tone one of steel, eyes narrowed dangerously and her aura flaring, “I do not take kindly to attacks on my mind.”

Grandmaster Shan searched her gaze, nodding at whatever she found, “(If you will not relent then may the Force be with you.)”

“Likewise,” She cut the transmission, reconnecting to the _Talon_ , “You heard.”

“(Every word, my Lord,)” Replied Orzik his voice somewhat strained before turning to his ensigns, “(What is the ETA of the Republic reinforcements?)”

“(Forty minutes at most.)” Hetter responded.

Aindri was already moving forward, long gait eating up the deck plating. They were near the escape pods already, the strong vibrations echoing through their boots a result of the ships sublight engines. She was confident her and Vette would reach the ‘General’ before the Grandmaster’s reinforcements arrived.

“We have time.”

Vette peeked around the corner and grinned when she saw the door leading to the lightly guarded escape pods, glancing back at Aindri she gave a thumbs up. She hung back as the Sith surged forward, providing long range support, not that the other really needed it.

But what happened next, Vette would always vehemently deny her amazement.

Sure, a person was one thing, Vette still shuddered recalling Vemrin, but a blast door?

Aindri almost growled when sparks flew from the blast doors before them, someone on the other side trying to prevent their passage. Closing her eyes, she focused, seeing the door through the Force itself, noting weak points in its composition.

Gathering the Force, into her palm until she felt her arms thrumming with power, she drew her hands back, metal bending with a groan. Aindri snapped her palms outwards, the blast doors tearing away from its frame with a loud screech. Heavy metal hurled into the air slamming into a pair of Republic troops, blood pooling under their crushed bodies.

She glided through the door, light on her feet and muscles tense in anticipation. She’d sensed the stronger than average presence in the Force emanating from behind the door. Aindri was rewarded with the sight of a pink-skinned Twi’lek wearing plain brown robes, an ignited green-bladed lightsaber extended in front of her.

“Halt where you are,” Demanded the Jedi, green-bladed lightsaber igniting to extend in front of her, “I Yadira Ban, Padawan of the Jedi Order was sent to protect the General and you will not pass.”

Narrowing her eyes, Aindri examined the young woman before her.

A Padawan, was like an Apprentice but that was no means a measure of strength. Unlike the Jedi who had three steps of rank the Sith had four for a more precise delineation of ability and responsibility. As such most Acolytes could fight evenly with a Padawan and some Sith, whilst powerful enough to be a Lord, could remain an apprentice for decades.

That Ban held a lightsaber meant she was nearing the end of her trials.

Behind her Vette tensed, apprehensive at facing another Twi’lek, Padawan though she maybe. Igniting her own saber, Aindri closed the distance between them until they were circling each other. In her peripheral vision she saw Vette’s hand move to her blasters.

Turning her head fractionally towards her companion, the other froze and stepped back.

Aindri would take on Ban and would do so alone.

“You will not be allowed to pass,” Ban repeated, grip on her lightsaber shifting and tightening as she pointed at it the Sith’s chest, “And I will drive you back meter by meter if need be.” Her next words were filled with righteous anger, “Just as the Republic pushed the Sith Empire into the dark of the galaxy.”

Such passion, Aindri mused, far from the calmness expected of a Jedi.

It was even the Padawan who struck first and flicking the tip of her lightsaber upwards, Aindri met Ban in a clash of red and green plasma. Whirling away half a step, she eased up on any strength behind her blade, so Ban was off-balance from expecting solid resistance.

Stopping behind the Padawan, she brought her blade up in a sweeping slash which almost missed. A piece of badly singed brown cloth fluttered to the floor in front of her as Ban rolled away to safety.

The Padawan pushed to her feet, sporting blackened tear in the bottom of her outer robe.

It was Aindri who attacked next and they paced back and forth across the room, trading blow after deadly blow. They were near evenly matched in terms of skill, but her strikes were slightly stronger, her reflexes faster, her footwork more accurate.

Yadira was growing desperate, the Sith more of a challenge than she’d expected. The force of her attacks sent vibrations down her arms. She stumbled backwards from a foot slamming against her sternum when the other leapt to avoid a sideswipe of her saber.

The Sith righted herself, landing lightly on her feet before flying forward once more. The other kept low to the ground and aimed a slash at her thighs. Yadira lowered her saber to block the blow only for her eyes to widen at her mistake.

She had miscalculated, the green blade of her lightsaber a fraction too high.

Ominous crimson light, the colour of human blood, reflected in her eyes as the Sith’s saber suddenly changed its angle. The blade slipped under her guard to snap upwards, piercing her midsection and up deep into her heart.

Aindri exhaled, deactivating her saber and stepped back to allow the body to fall.

Looking up, her gaze moving to the opposite side of the room and the corridor leading to the escape pods. Stowing her lightsaber, she stepped around the corpse and headed for the corridor, giving the Republic soldiers manning it a baleful look.

It was a token guard at best and with Vette she cut through them easily.

Reaching the pods, five in total situated next to each other, she scanned the room with her eyes and a flash of movement caught her attention. Vette darted forward, nabbing a large balding man in an Imperial military uniform by the scruff of his neck.

“There’s a finder’s fee, right?” Vette said cheerfully, poking a blaster between the man’s shoulder blades, “Cause if so, I totally call dibs. I’ll take it in the form of a fruit cup.”

Rolling her eyes, Aindri opened the nearest escape pod and Vette pushed him in, keeping her blaster trained on the man as the two settled into a seat. She pulled the release lever and switched the pod to manual control, motioning for Vette to take control.

Taking the traitors chin, Aindri lifted his head so pale blue eyes met her’s, “Your uniform marks you as a general and yet you betrayed the Empire. Why?”

The General laughed bitterly, “If you knew what I knew, you’d understand. If you’d heard what both sides were plotting, you wouldn’t be so eager to restart this war.”

“Peace is a lie.”

“That may be so, but we’d all be dead if I didn’t do something.” His gaze shifted away from hers, “They’re building doomsday weapons. Shields that envelop planets, missiles that darken suns. Republic and Empire are planning to raze worlds, annihilate civilisations. It will be unlike anything the galaxy’s seen since the Great Hyperspace War.” He shook his head with a sigh, “There’s no place for me in the Empire anymore. I thought my last act might be to even the odds. Create a stalemate.”

She removed her hand, letting the traitors chin fall and looked up when a clamp locked onto them with a heavy jolt. Aindri tapped her comm to contact the _Black Talon_ , getting through after a brief burst of hissing static.

“(My Lord?)” Came Orzik’s voice.

“We have the traitor and have been picked up by the shuttle. What is your status?”

“(We have only taken a few minor hits to our hull, but our luck is beginning to run out,)” The captain informed her, pausing as someone shouted in the background, “(The ETA of Republic reinforcements is fifteen minutes.)”

“Recall our fighters. Enter hyperspace as soon as _Stormjaw_ enters the hanger.”

“(It will be done, my Lord. I will see you upon your return.)”

Through the pod’s viewport the outline of the _Black Talon_ grew clearer as they approached, bolts racing past them as heavy turrets rotated to lance talons with deadly laser fire. Aindri braced herself when the shuttle above them banked port, shuttle jerking upwards as enemy fire just grazing the underside of its hull.

Sliding into the hanger at an angle, the shuttle pilot yanked the throttle into full reverse preventing both _Stormjaw_ and the escape pod from smashing into the hanger’s back wall.

Aindri had opened the hatch and left the pod before it was even deposited on the deck.

Unlike the Sith, Vette waited, “No way I’m jumping from a moving shuttle.”

The Twi’lek handed off the General to the nearest soldier before going after Aindri.

On the bridge, Orzik called out commands, clearing one emergency after another. The man certainly had combat experience, Aindri mused. She wondered whether he had been demoted. But she was sure he had not for unlike the General he didn’t outright hate war.

“Sylas, injury reports.”

“Three crew dead, ten marines, five pilots, twenty-three injured.”

“Passengers?” The Captain asked.

“Fourteen injured, no fatalities.”

“Right, good,” Orzik breathed, taking a moment to mourn those lost, before he turned to the Sith and bowed, “My Lord, you are the heroes of the day. I will have my men take the general to the brig. Congratulations. I never expected the mission to go off this cleanly.”

Aindri waved dismissively but said softly, “You did well, all of you. I will see those who died today receive commendations for their service.”

“I... thank you, my Lord,” Orzik replied.

“Grand Moff Kilran is eagerly awaiting your report,” Said NR-02, breaking the silence, “Shall I put him through?”

She inclined her head fractionally towards Orzik who nodded gratefully understand she was returning command of the _Talon_ to him. He owed a lot to this Sith, not only had she spared his life, but she’d also eliminated a threat to the Empire.

No point putting it off, but Orzik’s expression still tightened when Kilran’s image appears.

“(Well how fortunate I could reach my friends aboard the _Black Talon_ ,)” Kilran drawled with a familiar smug smirk, which had the Captain itching to punch him straight in the jaw, stretching across his features, “(The droids keeping me apprised of your work, but I very much wanted to hear from you. How did the attack go?)”

“You’ll be pleased to hear the traitor is in custody,” Ozrik replied tersely, eye twitching but otherwise maintaining his composure, “He will be in your hands soon enough.”

“(Excellent. I’ll let Korriban and Imperial Intelligence fight over him,)” Kilran smiled, becoming if possible, even more smug, “(You should be proud, Captain. This is only one of many operations we’re conducting across the galaxy. It’s a new beginning to the war. The general was one of the greatest weapons the Republic had, a defector, and you snatched from him from enemy hands.)” He turned to the Sith who made the capture possible, “(I know Darth Baras will be most pleased with your performance.)”

Aindri’s eyes narrowed under her hood, so the Moff knew who her master was. Interesting Kilran mentioned his name when it was Ari’ not Baras who organised her berth on the Talon. Well, it didn’t make much of a difference, bringing in a high priority target such as a defector it was inevitable Baras would her of her involvement.

“(But my words hardly matter.)” Kilran said dismissively, “(Soon you’ll be joining us on the homeworld, and you can see for yourself what you’ve been fighting for. It should be.)” He paused, his smirk widened, “(Inspiring. Enjoy the rest of your journey. Kilran out.)”

His image flickered once before disappearing, the tension on the bridge dissipating.

Sighing silently, Aindri gazed unseeingly familiar tunnel of hyperspace with its the swirl of colours beyond the transparisteel, “Arrival at Dromund Kaas?”

“Two hours, my Lord.” Replied Lieutenant Sylas who was standing by navigation.

“Inform me when we arrive in system,” She replied, “I will be in my quarters.”

Orzik snapped to attention and saluted her, the bridge crew following his example and Aindri nodded to them graciously as she strode away. Black robes swirling around her ankles, she departed the bridge with Vette trailing after her.


	8. Of Empire's Heart

Dromund Kass was a world of jungles and near endless storms, as if the planet wept openly and uncontrollably. Their entire descent was punctuated by lightning strikes and crashing thunder despite the tall spires attracting the storm’s fury. It was not uncommon for streaks of lightning to rise and meet the heavens.

One couldn’t even tell it was early evening, the sun yet to set, so thick were the dark ceiling of heavy grey storm clouds. Even when the shuttle broke through the foggy layer, dense foliage hid the planet’s surface from view.

It was, in Vette’s opinion, definitely foreboding enough to be the capital of the Empire.

“Welcome to Dromund Kass,” Vette murmured at the approaching thick canopy through the viewport, “Where freedom goes to die, and legends are forced onto the galaxy.”

“I will not silence your voice,” Said Aindri, eyes closed as she basked in Kass’s presence in the Force, “But I’d refrain from making such comments unless in private, Vette.”

The darkness shrouding Dromund Kass was subtler than Korriban’s but no less present.

Ziost may have been the planet where she was born, but Dromund Kaas would always be her home. Whatever tied her to her homeworld died the day her brother did, the memory drowned in a series of screams, blood, fire and tears. Collateral damage in an attack, arranged by her own father.

It was ironic, her surname meant ‘honour as holy’ but her family was sinful as they came.

Vette flicked her eyes toward Aindri, a sheepish expression on her face and internally chided herself. Just because her employer removed her shock collar and didn’t mind her quips and sarcasm didn’t mean the Sith would.

Plus, Aindri had all but admitted she wasn’t a typical Sith when they had first met. So, engaging her rarely used filter might be a good idea, particularly in what one could argue was the Empire’s heart. If it had such a thing....

Right, filter.

The treetop’s spun as the shuttle pilot who was transporting them down from the _Black Talon_ which remained in Kass’s upper atmosphere turned the ship. Reversing into a hanger, dark blueish grey skies was replaced by industrial yellow. There was a lurch when the shuttle landed and a soft hiss when the hatch depressurized, gangway extending.

Leaving the shuttle, Aindri remained watchful and Vette kept close to her side casting superstitious glances in the direction of the soldiers. Though she didn’t voice so aloud, a wise decision on the Twi’lek’s part since showing weakness was to paint a target on your back, she could sense Vette’s worry. A worry of being snatched and collared.

Expected given the Empire’s less than stellar treatment of non-humans was well known.

The spaceport was clean but rather monotonous, the only splash of colour the blood red banners hanging from gun metal grey ceiling and walls. Fat rain drops slapped heavy plastiglass windows, straight-lines and duracrete construction all but screaming ‘military’.

Aindri swept her eyes over the crowded arrival area, pausing at the sight of a frantically waving hand. It belonged to a small balding and harassed look man wearing simple slave garb and a collar. The slave hurried over when he realised, he had her attention.

“You’re the one, yes. Not like the scabs who exited the shuttle with you. You radiate power, Lord. I bow before you.” The man bowed so low his head almost hit the floor, “I serve Lord Baras. He sent me to meet his new apprentice, and I made sure I was here on time, I certainly did. Yes indeed.”

He rapidly rose from his bow, but continued fidgeting, never quite meeting her eyes.

Crossing her arms, Aindri regarded the slave coolly, “And?”

“Lord Baras bids you to explore the city. Take in what Dromund Kass has to offer and he shall meet you tomorrow morning at 0800 hours.”

“Very well.”

“Will you....” The slave fidgeted, looking at her hopefully, “Tell Lord Baras I was good?”

“You did everything perfectly,” Aindri said dismissively.

“Thank you, gentle juggernaut. I bow my head until you depart.”

“Wow, what a weasel” Vette murmured as the slave did exactly what he said when they passed him for the turbolift, “Dromund Kass needs some pest control.”

Aindri sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she leaned against the wall of the lift.

Baras likely wouldn’t appreciate her killing one of his servants, particularly one who had such potential for espionage. Nobody would give a second look to such a pathetic creature; it would grant him a certain measure of anonymity over others.

 _Sometimes, it is the most unassuming and invisible of people who are worth the most_ – her uncle would explain to her – _Even those who are pathetic at first glance._

Still, she hoped other of Baras would have a little more backbone.

“Somehow,” Vette snickered, “I doubt you’re the only one.”

Aindri was glad she still had her hood up to hide her blink, she hadn’t realised she had voiced that thought out loud. She shook herself when the turbolift’s doors opened, spitting them out into the spaceport’s main hub.

Despite living on Dromund Kass before going to Korriban, Aindri had never visited the spaceport before. All the times she had been off-planet, including to go to the Academy, and back she had instead used the smaller and more private port in Kass City. There were only so many ways a spaceport could be designed, however, so she led them easily.

Passing an officer shouting loudly at a technician about malfunctioning beacons stirring up the wildlife, the two came to the ports front entrance. Her boots touched wet springy ground and Aindri glanced around at the thick tropical jungle surrounding the building.

Among the well-worn dirt paths running off into the trees was a single concrete road.

Sending Vette to requisition a speeder, Aindri clicked on her holocom and sent a message to Seban informing him of her arrival planetside and to expect another person. Slipping the communicator back into her robes, she tipped her head back to watch the sky.

Rain fell in a cascade of unrelenting large drops from the black ceiling of low clouds, attempting to wash everything away. The perpetually violent weather lent well to the planet’s dark atmosphere but Aindri loved the scent of rain and breathed in deeply.

It was a nice change from the arid air and red sands of Korriban and brought the Sith a sense of deep-seated comfort; after two long months she had finally returned home.

* * *

 

They pulled into Kass City, the seat of the Empire aimed to be the most imposing and impressive city in the galaxy. It was a beacon of civilisation in constant contention with the jungle beyond its walls. Bringing order to the chaos of nature, or at least trying to.

Over the wind, Aindri heard the low amazed whistle from Vette seated behind on the speeder. Her neck craned upwards to gaze at the walls separating the city from the vicious wilderness stretching across most of Kass’s surface.

“Why are the walls so big?” Vette asked.

“To keep the beasts out.”

Her companions question brought to mind a particularly nasty incident during Aindri’s youth when a pair of Gundarks got into the city. She had awoken to the damage they had wrought and the soldiers patrolling the wall that night had been severely punished.

“They do manage to slip through on occasion.”

Vette gulped having seen the kinds of animals stalking the jungle as they rode through an urban jungle of metal and glass. Looking around at the faceless buildings she’d have thought the cities architects were colour blind to anything not black, grey or red.

It was certainly no Coruscant or Nar Shadda, it had the scale down but lacked creativity.

Every building seemed indentical from each other and the muted colour caused by a combination of an eternally overcast sky and grey buildings gave it a depressive feel.

“So where are we going?” Vette asked trying to change the subject, she did _not_ want to think about the animals which could tear her in two and after getting a good look at some had no desire to get close, “Or are we just gonna, you know, speed about aimlessly?”

Throwing Vette, a quick glance over her shoulder, Aindri returned her attention to the road and the skyscrapers looming high in storm-wracked skies, a small smile on her lips.

“Home.”

The Imperial Citadel watched over the city from a distance as they passed the Spires of Victory, a monument by Darth Gorgos after the Sacking of Coruscant. The cascading spires symbolised the ascendancy of the Sith and downfall of their enemies.

As the Sith directed the speeder into a residential area, Vette glanced up at the towering apartment buildings with apprehension. To her, tall buildings on a world wracked by near constant lightning storms was a recipe for disaster.

Aindri leant to the left, speeder sliding into an underground garage full of speeders of numerous shapes, sizes and designs. Expertly guiding the speeder into one of the spaces set aside for temporary use, she cut the engine and dismounted.

“Damn,” Vette murmured with wide eyes as she hopped off the speeder, taking in the sheer number and variety of vehicles, “I wonder how long it will take to hotwire these things.” Realising she had spoken aloud she whirled around with a panicked expression at Aindri’s arched brow, “Err, I mean not that I would. I mean I’d have to be insane and…”

“Come.” She said, cutting through the Twi’lek’s babbling and heading towards the lift.

“Right.” Vette muttered, clamping her mouth shut before it got her into more trouble.

Aindri leaned against the wall with her eyes closed, Vette glancing at her once or twice before looking at the rising floor count as the lift speed upwards. The Twi’lek tried to fill the silence which had descended between them.

“That’s a lot of floors,” Vette stated getting a hum in return.

A sharp ding and the indicator for the top floor lit up, turbo lift doors sliding silently open to reveal a richly red carpeted foyer. Two massive floor-to-ceiling windows took up the right wall, affording a view of the ravine separating the Citadel from the rest of the city, rocky crags faintly visible through the fog.

Couches were artfully arranged around a coffee table with their backs to the view and a chandelier hung from the ceiling. Like throughout the rest of the city, blood red banners with the familiar circle within an octagon were draped over almost black walls.

“Whoa.” Vette breathed as she stepped out of the elevator into opulent surroundings.

It was a penthouse apartment. But then of course it was a penthouse apartment, she probably shouldn’t have expected anything else. Three people wearing the same simple dark grey, but nicely cut, clothes stood waiting in the foyer. Servants Vette guessed; her suspicions confirmed when they all bowed deeply to the Sith.

“Welcome home, young mistress.” Said Seban, a pale skinned man with jet black hair reaching the nape of his neck before straightening, “I trust you had a pleasant journey.”

Aindri lowered her hood, a hint of warmth seeping into her eyes as she gave the man who’d been with her since she was a little girl a small smile, “Indeed. The speeder on which I arrived to be returned to spaceport.”

“Understood, young mistress,” He replied and cast a calculative glance at Vette, searching for whether she’d be a threat, who stared back curious, “And I might ask who this is?”

“Vette is a, freelancer, who has recently come under my employ.”

Seban hummed, “What are the four rules of blaster safety?”

Struck off guard, Vette quickly recovered, “A blaster is always loaded. Never point one at something you don’t want to shoot. Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to kill your target and always know what’s behind them.”

“Good,” Seban said approvingly, “I wouldn’t want young mistress to be shot accidentally.”

“I umm, don’t think I could if I tried.” Vette muttered.

Chuckling, Aindri tilted her head, “I trust you to show her the ropes, Seban.”

Aindri had been working on Vette’s citizenship status since she had taken off the Twi’lek’s shock collar. Mess with the _Brentaal Star_ notwithstanding, she’d managed to get the ball rolling between Vaiken Spacedock and Dromund Kass.

It was just a matter of waiting for it to go through.

“Of course, I will begin at once.”

With a nod of dismissal Vette followed Seban with a bemused look on her face.

“My Lady.” She turned her head to look at Mira, another of her servants with honey coloured skinned and raven black hair, “I have prepared your rooms for you.”

Nodding her thanks, Aindri strode out of the foyer looking forward to enjoying the privacy of her own rooms after having to share hers at the Academy. She liked Tormi and enjoyed her company, but the Twi’lek with her flirtatious nature could be exhausting.

* * *

Vette followed Seban as he gave her a quick tour of the penthouse apartment. Turns out it was three floors not just two. The turbolift deposited them what could be considered the ground floor, containing the foyer and two another rooms. One looked like a public audience room and the other a small office connected to both it and the corridor.

Branch off the sides of end of said corridor were two separate staircases, one going up and one down and between them was the largest room of the floor. Peering through the door, Vette saw it was a training room filled with weapon racks. She was surprised to see there were even blasters and some of the training dummies had targets on them.

The bottom floor rooms were spartan but comfortable with a bed, desk, chair, wardrobe and shelves filled with more than a couple of personal possessions. Vette was more than a little astounded to find each staff member had a room of their own.

Also located on the floor was the kitchen, two bathrooms and a storage room. There was also a small cargo elevator for carrying up any deliveries to the penthouse. Any delivery addressed to Aindri would then be taken by either Mira or Seban to the Sith.

Vette bounded ahead a couple of steps and turned to grin mischievously at the man, walking backwards up the stairs, “So... Seban, right? What’s it like working for a Sith?”

“Serving under the young mistress is both an honour and a pleasure.”

“Kay, not exactly the answer I was expecting,” Vette paused then shrugged, Aindri said to keep her tongue unless in private and she guessed this count since if he served her Seban was used to her mannerisms, “Well none of this is what I expected. I mean for a start I’d thought a Sith would have loads of servants or is it an unseen and unheard kinda gig?”

“The young mistress believes in not depending on others for what she could do herself.”

“Huh. I thought all Sith were bossy gits who’d expect anyone and everyone to cater to their every whim.” Vette blurted, blinked, then snapped her mouth shut and cringed; lack of filter aside since when was she that reckless, “Err, I mean....”

But to her surprise Seban he laughed outright, “I believe I can see why the young mistress took enough of an interest to go as far as to off your employment.”

Before she could ask about and unpack what the man had meant by that statement they arrived at the top floor. It seemed surprise was going to be a common emotion around Aindri, as the floor was almost as spartan as the staff one, not to say it wasn’t luxurious.

At the top of the landing were two doors, one opening onto a balcony that was very unlikely to ever be used while the other led in a room larger than any she’d seen so far.

A floor-to-ceiling window took up the entirety of the back wall and looked out over one half of the balcony while a long black table with several chairs taking up most of the floor. But it was the room beyond the dining one which caused Vette’s eyes to widen.

In the centre was a large circular open fireplace, an actual karking fireplace, surrounded by several very comfortable looking deep green armchairs and sofas. The rest of the space was filled with bookshelves, the only place kept open the area in front of the window looking out onto the second half of the balcony.

“The only rooms in which you are not allowed are the young mistresses own,” Said Seban, drawing her attention as he indicated to a set of rooms just beyond the library, “Other than those areas, you have full access to the facilities here.”

“Seriously?” Vette asked in astonishment, grinning when Seban nodded, “Sweet.”

Excusing himself to continue with his regular duties, Seban left Vette to her own devices and she returned to her own room to have a shower before returning to the library. Feeling refreshed she perused the shelves which held just as many physical, _leather bound_ , books as did the holo versions.

She did, however, stay well away from the cubes and pyramids scattered across the room.

“My grandfather preferred physical copies to holobooks.”

Her fingers halted from where they’d been stroking a books leather spine and she turned to see the owner, leaning against the doorframe of her rooms. Wearing plain but loose and comfortable clothing, Aindri looked more casual than Vette had seen her before.

“My uncle and I continued the tradition.” The Sith finished.

Aindri walked towards on of the shelves, raising a hand to run her fingers lightly across leather before stopping and removing a slim volume. It was one of her luckier finds, discovered when she was visiting a market place on the planet with _Ari’_.

Stepping away from the shelves she sunk into one of the armchairs, igniting the fireplace with a flick of her wrist activating its motion sensors. The flames jumped up, licking the fireplaces ceiling before dying down to dance in the grate.

Lounging back in the seat, she opened the book, flicking through the pages until she found what she was looking for. The resulting silence that had descended was a comfortable one as she read, and Vette returned to explore the shelves.

“And will I get to meet any family of yours?” Vette asked, flopping onto the opposite sofa.

She glanced at Vette over the top of her book before returning to the page, “Unlikely. My uncle perhaps, but he’s currently away doing something,” She paused, pages hiding the upward curl of her lips, “Sithy, as you call it. Regardless he has his own properties.”

“Hey that’s my line,” Vette grinned before what she said registered and gaped at her, “You mean you have actually own this entire place yourself!?”

“I invested.” Aindri replied.

Silence reigned as Vette digested this information before asking, “Okay, so the servants?”

“Seban and Mira have been with me since I was very young.” Aindri answered, turning a page, “Shee originally served my uncle before coming into my employ a few years ago.”

She gave a faint smile; both had been her caretakers when she still lived in the Clan’s main compound. Mina was first, looking after Aindri when her own mother begun to disregard her child in favour of other, pursuits, when she failed to first show potential in the Force.

Falling out of favour with her parents, she became all but invisible to both her family, close and extended, and the servants. It was shameful, for a Non-Force sensitive to be born to a family which had produced many a powerful Sith throughout their history.

It was Seban who deigned, he would snort at this, saying it was an honour to serve her and he did so willingly, to treat her wounds after she trained. Later he helped to keep her training secret. He was first on the scene when upon the assassination attempt failed and protected her when she was vulnerable.

When Aindri left Ziost with _Ari’_ they followed, both bowed in supplication to her uncle.

Vette was about to ask another question when there was a small knock and Aindri flicked her wrist, the library door opening to reveal Shee standing on the other side of the door.

Long white hair reaching to the small of her back and bangs hiding her face, Shee was soft spoken holding a certain kind of dignity. It was Shee who, out of all her uncles’ servants, helped her most in acclimatising to Kass.

 _Ari’_ bemoaned her loss but respected the wish to reassign her to her service permanently.

“My Lady, dinner is ready.”

Aindri nodded in gratitude, shutting her book and walked next door where she took her seat at the head of the table. Vette groaned but heaved herself off the sofa, she was right it was very comfortable, and followed her.

Laid out on the table was more than a few of Aindri’s favourite dishes. It seemed Seban and the others had gone all out to celebrate her homecoming and she tucked into the food before her with a small upturn of her lips.

Weeks of Academy food for Aindri and prison food for Vette, meant they devoured their meal and she even chuckled when the Twi’lek leaned back with a sigh of contentment.

“I haven’t food that good in ages!” Vette grinned, “My highest compliments to the chef.”

Chuckling, Aindri rose, “I am retiring for the night and I suggest you do the same. We have an early start tomorrow.”

“Yeah good idea,” Vette nodded tiredly, supressing a yawn as she lifted her head from where she leaned it on the back of her chair and gave a cheeky grin, “By the way you need to loosen up you know? You’re so serious all the time. Can’t be good for your health.”

Aindri arched a brow at Vette who went and mirrored her expression and it was only when the silence stretched to point it almost became awkward that she finally spoke.

“Then I will endeavour to do so,” She replied, turning back and walking towards the door with an absent wave of her hand, “Goodnight Vette.”

* * *

Aindri awoke early the next morning, dark emerald silk sheets slipping from her shoulders to rest in her lap, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep. Rising, she stretched luxuriously, falling into the familiar routine she’d done each morning before leaving for the Academy.

Showering, she changed into her training gear calling her lightsabers from her bedside to her hand with the Force. She showered again after training and changed into a favourite grey high neck tunic over black pants with black combat boots, gauntlets and pauldrons.

Clipping her lightsabers to her belt, she paused in her movements her gaze shifting to zero in on her desk upon which rested a box. Aindri slowly closing in on her desk, removing the boxes lid to reveal a faceless mask.

Pure black and painted with red accents, it shone with a metallic sheen in the cold light of the room. It was sculptured to perfectly sit upon her face and was commissioned long before she had even set foot on Korriban. _Ari’_ , one of few who had faith in her, had been the one to put in the request.

It had been long standing tradition, that a member of the Hallow clan received their mask upon successful completion of their Sith trials. Concealing their countenance, only to remove their mask in public.

There was normally a ceremony involved and she knew _Ari’_ would have preferred to give it her himself, but circumstances worked against them. He likely had Seban retrieve it from his own holdings, not trusting anyone else with such a task.

They never much cared for the tradition, neither her nor _Ari’_ but followed it all the same.

Tying up her hair, Aindri lifted the mask from the box turning it over slowly in her hands lifting it up and slipped it on. She only needed to adjust the mask slightly, so it sat comfortably on her face. 

Pulling on a long black hooded robe, Aindri exited her rooms and walked down to the foyer, already haven eaten breakfast between her shower and training. Waiting for her was a sleepy-eyed Vette who had been pleased to learn all buildings in Kass City were thoroughly sound proofed so the near constant thunder storms wouldn’t keep her awake.

“What’s with the mask?” Vette yawned as the turbolift descended.

“It is better if I know my opponent and they do not know me.” She replied vaguely.

“Cryptic,” Vette replied sarcastically, exiting the lift and Aindri pulled up her hood sending her mask into shadow, “So in other words creepy, menacing and mysterious good?”

Aindri eyes moved heavenward at the quip and repeated, “Yes, Vette. Creepy, menacing and mysterious good.”

Vette smirked as they walked down the city streets, heading for one of the many public taxi terminals, “Right I’ll make sure to take notes. And the second lightsaber?”

Her mouth twisted into a smile. "I like to be prepared. When you block a strike, your opponent often leaves themselves open one way or another. And if I'm separated from my main hand, it's better to have something in reserve. It is also, intimidating."

“Yeah, I hear you there. Those reasons are pretty much why I use two blasters.”

Humming, Aindri looked up at the sky; it was only early morning and yet already the clouds were a heavy midnight blue. As much as she loved the scent, Aindri was thankful it wasn’t raining, Vette likely feeling the same.

“That’s a long drop, boss,” Vette whistled, leaning over the railing of the taxi-pad balcony.

“Most inhabitants live in apartments down there, unseen and out of sight,” Aindri replied, waving vaguely in the direction of her own apartment, “Can’t have them destroying the Dromund Kass atmosphere with visible apartment buildings, Vette. Mine is of a rare few.”

“Huh.”

Hailing a taxi, Aindri ordered the droid to take them to the Citadel upon boarding.

The largest building in the city, the Imperial Citadel towered against Kass’s eternally dark skies, framed by the ever-present lightning flashing in the distance. It was broken into three segments, entrances connected by skybridges.

The central and largest tower housed the Sith Sanctum, an impressive building of black stone mixed with ultrachrome. It gave the harsh architecture an otherworldly sheen in the rain. Mounted high on its front was the symbol of the Empire glowing red like a beacon.

A mixed bag of Darths and Lords, Aindri could feel the Force wrapping around her like weak tendrils, welcoming her to the seat of true power. The Dark Council met on Korriban, but decisions were truly made there behind closed doors.

On the left was the building which housed the Mandalorian Enclave. The organic design of a Mythosaur skull emblazoned on a colourful giant banner contrasted the symmetric spokes of the Imperial seal. On the right was the headquarters of Imperial Intelligence, free of anything identifiable but with a distinct feeling of being observed.

“Stay close, Vette.” Murmured Aindri when she opened the taxi and they disembarked.

Vette nodded, staring at the building in mild trepidation, “Right behind you, don’t worry.”

Starting for the Sanctum’s entrance, Vette staying a half-step behind her, close enough to show she was under her employ. While Aindri did not entirely mind if the Twi’lek walked alongside her, like Korriban, there were appearances to be kept in such a place.

Passing a large statue of the Emperor they entered the central chamber, a huge high-ceilinged room. The plunging floor was crisscrossed by suspended walkways leading to multitudinous offices, libraries and laboratories, catering to all sorts of Sith.

She could feel the ebb and flow of dark side, like an undercurrent in the air.

In her peripheral visions, Aindri saw Vette wince at the bright green holo display of the Empire’s insignia reaching into the ceiling, illuminating the otherwise dark space. The Twi’lek groaned and diverted her eyes to the ground in front of her, keeping them there.

“Urgh, come in here and it’s an instant headache.”

With a warning look at her companion, Aindri lead them to the third floor.

Passing the troopers who stood guard, their presence ceremonious more than anything else, at the entrance to her master chambers Aindri strode into the first room. Ignoring all the aides scurrying about no doubt in a hurry to do his bidding, she headed to the second room where she could sense the Darth’s presence.

The Darth’s helmeted head turned up from the datapad he was reading when she entered and Aindri’s posture straightening further under his faceless and expressionless scrutiny.

“Ah Apprentice, not a minute too soon. Your timing is impeccable.” Bara’s voice echoed.

“Did it just get considerably colder?” Vette whispered, looking up at the wall air vents.

Aindri had forgotten Vette was unused to being in the personal presence of a fully trained Sith Lord. Her discomfort in Baras’s presence sent small waves throughout the Force and she felt the Twi’lek shiver when Vette pressed closer to her.

She shifted so Vette was shielded from view, keeping her eyes trained on the Darth.

“I see you decided to keep the Twi’lek,” Baras hummed, not even giving the other a glance, “I hope she amuses you. I trust you’ve had a good homecoming?”

“Indeed master. It is good to be home.”

“Good, good.” Baras lifted himself from his chair and walked around the desk to stand before her, “Now onto your responsibilities as my Apprentice.”

Ah, Aindri was wondering what hers would be; while all Apprentices acted as their master’s representative, specific duties varied according to Master and one’s skills.

Her sperm donor had been the face of his paranoid Master, representing him at various functions many ending violently. In contrast her egg donor, Darth Hyal, had been a foremost interrogator and assassin, using her wiles and sadistic taste in pleasures to drag out his enemies’ darkest secrets.

 _Ari’_ spent most of his time doing research for his Sith artefact obsessed Master.

Aindri bowed her head, “What sort of duties shall I be conducting, my Lord?”

“Your mandate will put you in contact with my various minions. Meet my directives, and you may do as you will to anyone you encounter, adversary or ally.”

Oh, this Darth truly did know how to entice her, “I will use good judgment, Master.”

“Good,” Baras chuckled softly, “Keep in mind, Apprentice, a lightsaber can only achieve so much. The most powerful weapon in a Sith’s arsenal is information. I have painstakingly built a vast network of spies and operatives embedded throughout the Sith, Republic, and Jedi alike. I have fingers, eyes, and ears everywhere.”

Aindri could understand spying on fellow Sith, theirs was an opportunistic culture. Those who rose in rank by dismantling the people around and above them, accumulating many rivals who would seek to destroy them. But her mind’s focus was on the knowledge Baras had agents who’d successfully infiltrated the Jedi Order.

Such a feat was not easy, and her mind whirred at the potential advantages.

Risking a glance back at Vette, Aindri saw she was shivering but didn’t having trouble keeping her mouth shut and turned to Baras, “Which am I to be? A finger, eye, or ear?”

“None. You are to be my enforcer,” Replied Baras, circling around her and putting his hands on her shoulders, “Deployed to protect my interests, intimidate my rivals, and...” He squeezed her lightly, voice turning into a soft growl, “... _destroy_ my enemies. It is time for your tenure to begin.”

“Understood, my Lord.”

Removing his hands, Baras turned away, “A military starship is touching down at the Kaas City cargo port, delivering a vitally important prisoner to me. Meet Commander Lanklyn at Cresh-4 and make sure he and his men successfully off-load this prisoner.”

“Lanklyn isn’t capable? She asked, brow arched, “Or do you expect a snake in the grass?”

“We must always assume someone is plotting against us, even here in the brain of the Empire,” he replied, throwing his left hand in a dramatic display before clenching it into a fist. “Especially when the stakes are high.”

“He is competent, but that is moot. Always assume we are being plotted against, especially when the stakes are high. The importance of this prison cannot be overstated.”

Knowing a dismissal when it was given, Aindri bowed and walked from the room.

 Vette followed closely, whispering when they were out of sight, "Well he's still creepy."

"He is also my master," Aindri noted in warning.

"Doesn’t change that he’s creepy." Vette snarked back.

* * *

The cargo port was a flurry of activity, people rushing to-and-fro, coming and going. It put Aindri ever so slightly on edge, an enemy could easily be able to slip in amongst the chaos.

Many of the bodies were bounties hunters and Aindri recalled hear the preliminaries for Third Great Hunt had begun the competition for the final sport. The event was an open secret amongst the criminal underworld and the Sith and was likely the reason behind the increase in activity.

She kept an eye on the competitors for it was during such times unknown talent emerged.

When they entered cargo bay Cresh-4, the military transport had already landed, and an officer was overseeing two soldiers unloading a block of carbonite. Aindri watched with no small amount of amusement as Vette sneaked up behind the man, who she assumed was Commander Lanklyn, shouting orders.

“Hey, Captain Oblivious – boo!”

Lankyln jumped and whirled around as Vette stepped back grinning. He had a bruenette moustache trailing down the ends of his mouth and jawline and blue eyes. Cybernetics where planted in his lower cheek and jaw in addition to a sport above his left eye.

Before Lankyln could shout at Vette, Aindri covered the length of the bay in several long strides and the commander blanched at seeing lightsaber at her hip. She smiled at him catlike and fear burned in the man’s eyes.

“Oh, I... I,” Lankyln stuttered, clearing his throat and smoothing down his uniform, shifting to stand at attention, “Apologies, my Lord. I didn’t see you enter.” He hesitated a moment before adding, “Lord Baras didn’t need to send a welcoming party.”

“My Master feels otherwise,” Said Aindri, Lankyln may have hid his frown but his displeasure at Baras thinking they required oversight to do their jobs roiled through the Force, “You are competent, Commander, but Sith interests are complicated.”

“Yes, my Lord, whatever you say,” He bowed his head in acknowledgement, “Let’s get this oversized block of ice to your master.”

The Commander turned back to his men who had finished offloading the prisoner and they were about to move when Aindri felt killing intent echo throughout the bay. Holding her hand up to stop them, she half turned to face the rest of the room.

“This is a private party, meaning you are not welcome.” She coldly called out to the intruders who were attempting, very poorly, to sneak up to them. Even without her sense enhanced by the Force she would have easily heard them, “Leave.”

“Well too bad, consider it crashed,” Smirked a scruffy clothed man.

She quickly stripped his appearance down to solid details; lightly Force-sensitive, not enough for Jedi or Sith training and at least a head shorter than her. He dressed in what might well have been a smuggler ‘uniform’ and had a goggle tan around his eyes. Long, matted brown hair was cut to the chin in front and pulled up in a ponytail at the back.

He was followed by a few lightly armoured men, not Imperial, at least in out appearance.

“My master ordered a block of ice. So, I’m here to relieve you of your burden,” The man’s smirk grew wider, “Whether that includes your own lives, well, is up to you.”

Aindri eyed the blaster aimed at her dispassionately and the two stared at each other for a few moments, the man and crew much tenser than her. In her peripheral vision, Vette flexed her hand near her blasters and inched back in preparation, eyes flicking right.

From that direction a male Houk and his shady entourage pushed their way to the front.

“Lookie, lookie, if it ain’t Slestack,” Sneered the Houk his weak grasp of Basic doing nothing to undermine the venous tone, “Your master be wanting the frozen man, too, huh? Too bad for you. It mine.”

Did those two work for Sith or Crime Lords? Aindri narrowed her eyes, regardless of which someone or two someone’s did not want Baras to get the prisoner. They sent those men to stop them and irrespective of if they killed or revived the prisoner to take the information, he held for themselves, what mattered was they planned to take him.

“Ah, TuMarr,” The man, Slestack, greeted cordially, though there was a mocking tone to his voice, “I would say it was nice to see but I’d be lying.”

“That go true for you for you too, Slestack,” TuMarr growled, disgust twisting the alien’s features, “If you don’t flee, this be like killing two stone with one bird.”

“I’m such a fool,” Lankyln cursed quietly as TuMarr and Slestack continued to argue, “I’ll never doubt Lord Baras again.” He looked to the Sith, “What do we do?”

“Don’t panic,” She intoned, sending a pulse through the Force to calm the commander.

Hearing Lankyln take a calming breath, Aindri took stock of the situation. Seven people, not including her, Vette or the commander and his men. She could also sense an eight sitting atop on of the stacked cargo containers.

Sniper.

“You wish, TuMarr. On your own you and your lackeys aren’t much of a fight.”

The Houk growled, “You mouth always get you in trouble, Slestack. It about to chew off more than it can bite.”

A plan formed in her mind and the corner of her lips turned up under her mask, there was no love lost between the two groups and Aindri could use this hatred to her advantage.

All it would take would be one, little, push.

Summoning the Force to her, she subtly exerted her will on TuMarr’s psyche and with concentrated effort, pushed the Houk’s anger and aggression into outrage and bloodlust.

“Come on, boys!” Roared TuMarr, “We smash the talk from Slestack’s big mouth now!”

Utterly blind to her use of the Force to manipulate his mind, TuMarr threw a grenade towards Sletstack and both groups leapt apart, blaster fire tearing across Cresh-4. Aindri nodded to Vette who grinned and darted forward while she waved the others forward.

Blocking the occasional stray shot with her lightsaber, a blinking light caught her eye and Aindri whirled to find a thermal detonator tossed into the air. Drawing on the Force, she snapped out her hand and swung, sending the detonator careening into the wall.

Dealing with the detonator gave Aindri time to check on Vette.

The Twi’lek dodged and weaved about the shots, playing both sides against each other. She had yet to see Vette fight like that, her companion typically acting as cover fire or a sniper in all other instances. But the fight was chaos made flesh, the maw of it incarnated in a bored yawn and instantaneous events reincarnated in the form of blaster fire.

Their eyes caught, Vette’s gaze burned with a fiery flurry of emotions; enjoyment and restrained boredom. The Twi’lek liked being challenged as much as Aindri did. She nodded approvingly and the other slipped away from the fight, her part done successfully.

After what occurred in the bay, Aindri wasn’t letting the prisoner out of her sight and kept her senses sharp even as they left the port, lightsaber deactivated but remaining in hand.

Lanklyn was more than happy with her presence as they escorted the carbonite block back to the Citadel and she continued to supervise even when they entered Baras’s chambers watching the troopers’ hook the carbonite block onto a wall mount, Lankyln going ahead to report to their shared master.

In distinct contrast to Lanklyn’s previous attitude, he was more than happy with her presence as they escorted the prisoner back to the Citadel. Aindri supervised the soldiers hooking the carbon block to a wall mount while Lankyln reported to their shared master.

Turning away, she bowed her head in greeting to Baras when he entered, expressionless mask focused on the block, “You are dismissed, Commander.”

Bowing to Baras first and then to her, Lankyln walked from the room, door sliding shut.

“Apprentice,” Baras began without preamble, “Lakyln informed me of the ambush at the cargo port. Apparently, there are more eyes on us than even I thought.” His voice darkened further, “I have felt a disturbance in the Force. It leaves doom imprinted on my dreams, a grave and mysterious threat that could bring down my entire power base.”

“And this prisoner?”

“A top Republic agent captured while investigating my most deeply embedded spy on Nar Shaddaa, one of my ‘invisibles’.” Answered Baras who began pacing across the room, “My untraceable spy who has left no footprints, no trail was almost exposed,” He growled in voice which spoke of the Darth’s cold fury, “It makes me furious.”

Aindri stayed silent, mind shifting through the information had shared. An answer wasn’t always obvious, nor given at first glance. She had to pick apart the information to find what was useful and what was not.

_Do not always accept things at face value, Woyunoks, read underneath the underneath._

“Whatever tipped off the Republic agent is undoubtedly linked to the threat you sense.”  

“He is the key to uncovering the nature of this threat, of that I am sure,” Agreed Baras who stopped pacing and began fiddling with the carbonite controls, “Now, while I thaw the prisoner and painfully siphon every morsel of information I can from him, I have a concern requiring your special talents.”

“The slave rebellion, my Lord?” Aindri asked, aware of Vette stiffening imperceptibly behind her as she elaborated, “I have heard whispers.”

“Indeed Apprentice,” Said Baras, pausing in his fiddling as he looks at her, confirming her suspicions, “There is an Imperial outpost in the jungles outside the city. Seek Commander Pritch, he will relay the necessary information for a seek-and-destroy task for you.”

“It will be done, my Lord.” She bowed her head and left Baras’s chambers.

“No rest for the wicked, I guess.” Vette muttered under her breath.

She cast a sideways glance in the Twi’lek’s direction, “You may stay in the city if you wish, Vette. I am under no illusions my orders will be to kill the slaves and I will not force you to do the same given your history.”

No longer hearing footsteps behind her, Aindri stopped and turned to Vette who had a shocked look on her face. But shock soon morphed into a thoughtful frown and she could see the cogs turning in the others’ mind, internal conflict warring across her features.

Vette was torn.

On the one hand, Aindri had managed to gain her loyalty despite only knowing each other a few days. Oh, who was she kidding, the Sith had it the moment she’d shown herself to not be a complete asshole on Korriban and cemented it by taking off the shock collar.

On the other hand, understanding their situation, Vette really did not want to have to go and shot a bunch of slaves and her Sith employer was offering her a way out of doing so.

“Yeah,” She sighed and looked at the other nervously, “That’s if you’re okay with it?”

Aindri nodded and resumed walking, Vette jogging slightly to catch up before falling in step behind her as they headed out of the citadel, “Head back. I can handle this alone.”

They split once they re-entered the city, Vette heading back to the apartment whilst Aindri pulled her cloak tighter around her and made for the vast jungle beyond the city.

* * *

Aindri returned much late that evening, robes soaked and splattered with mud. Vette found it quite funny when Mira and Shee descended on her like mother hens. She sniggered when Seban did the same, though he was much more dignified about it.

Walking into the shower, hot water rinsing sweat from her skin and loosening the knots in her shoulder and back muscles, Aindri breathed a sigh of relief at being done for the day.

She had pulled into the outpost, bustling with military activity and as soon as she dismounted the speeder had Commander Pritch hurry in a near sprint towards her. He’d taken her to a quieter area of the outpost where they wouldn’t be overheard and when given a brief rundown of the situation, she could only shake her head in disbelief.

Baras orchestrating the rebellion for his own purpose did not surprise her. Power plays were almost as common, if not more, on Kass as on Korriban only with higher stakes. What had been amazed by, however, was the slave captain’s stupidity.

One would think they would know better than even daring to attempt blackmailing a Dark Lord of the Sith. Baras wanting the ringleaders silenced so the others would lose their resolve was tame in comparison to some Lords.

Though Darth Vowrawn, whom the statue was dedicated too, she knew because Lord Qet would not stop ranting about the idea, would likely find the whole thing highly amusing.

When she’d returned from what could only be called a one-sided massacre, the slave revolt was down a few captains and Pritch had looked at her in awe. He told her it’d been impressive and inspiring to watch her work, but she didn’t feel either of those things.

After she left, Pritch had given his report to Baras and when asked as to what he thought of the Darth’s newest apprentice admitted to being scared by her. The previous Sith he had worked with were always moving but Hallow was uncannily still with eyes as keen as a targeting array. When he investigated, the rebel slave leaders were entirely docile.

Baras had at least been pleased Hallow resolved the whole thing so there were still tools.

Exiting the shower, Aindri shook the water from her hair. Slaying the weak and defenceless had left a rotten taste on her tongue. She was glad Vette had stayed behind, especially given what happened when she returned to Baras before coming home.

Screams had echoed down the corridors and the stench of blood and urine invaded her nostrils. Aindri had entered when Baras unleashed an especially intense and drawn out burst of Force Lightning, growling in frustration.

If she ever fought her master, his lightning would have to be something to watch out for.

Vette herself had spent most of the day exploring the penthouse, trying the shooting gallery in the training room and playing cards with a droid who she swore blind had cheated. There was no way she’d lose so many sets otherwise. Turns out it did since it was a Hutt model, and everyone knew those were fixed to nine Corellian Hells and back.

Dressed in loose clothing, Aindri had found Vette on one of the sofas in the library knees drawn up to her chest and staring into the dancing flames. Picking a book from the shelves, she sat next to her on the sofa content to sit there in silence.

Vette stretched out, heading lying on her lap and she stroked the Twi’lek’s head in a subconscious motion. Like always, it was Vette who broke the silence first, having long since realised the Sith rarely initiated conversation.

“You know,” Said her companion, looking at the fire with distant eyes, “Mention of the slave rebellion kind of made me think about, well, coming full circle, I guess.” She shrugged best as she was able, “Made me think about my time as a slave and all when I was a little girl.”

“Many Twi’lek’s are born into slavery, is that what happened to you?” Aindri asked.

“Near enough. My mother and sister and I were grabbed when I was little, but I don’t remember much of it. We worked the mines on Ryloth, then they separated us. I got sold to a Rodian, then a Hutt, then some sort of weird three-eyed thing. I was seven or eight at the time.” Vette paused, eyes becoming clear before going distant again, “Anyway, I guess you know you’ve moved around too much when even after a short time being with a Sith starts to feel like home.”

Aindri stared thoughtfully, considering and weighing her words before she spoke, “People grow from challenges,” She told her softly, “And adaptability is an important skill.”

“Guess so,” Vette hummed, “I was freed by Nok Drayen’s gang you know. The pirate.”

“He destroyed the Rath Cartel and the Vandelhelm Combine in some giant power grab.”

Vette giggled a bit, “Yeah, same guy. Weird to think of him that way. Nok Drayen was the most famous killer in the galaxy but he set me free.”

Silence fell and Aindri did not push Vette to continue speaking and they relaxed in the peaceful atmosphere which descended upon them. Even the occasional rustle of pages stopped as Aindri closed her book to gaze out the window at Kass’s stormy night sky.

 


	9. Jungle Rogues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I be worried about no getting any comments? Thanks for the Kudos though.

“Grathan is becoming a nuisance master,” Aindri commented as a body hit the floor.

Since her return to Kass, Aindri had been kept busy with a myriad of tasks. She intimidated subordinates, scoured the jungle for beasts, sat through long and tedious meetings with other Sith and high-ranking Imperial officials.

All as a symbol of Baras’s might and influence.

And as his enforcer also dealt with assassins sent to kill her master such as the one whose corpse was being dragged away. She had sensed his bloodlust among the technicians and quickly cut down the offender. Aindri had dealt with ten that week but they were the fifth the renegade had sent to kill Baras, making Grathan and most persistent and overzealous.

“Indeed,” Baras replied pausing in his ministrations on the Republic agent.

The bloody interrogation table and the man’s convulsing muscles made Aindri glad allowed Vette to sleep in. Yes, the Twi’lek would have seen torture in the Academy jails but Acolytes could only do so much damage, nowhere the extent of a Lord or Darth.

It was rare the Twi’lek accompanied her in Baras’s presence, spending most of her time beginning to look for traces of her family. Aindri gave her permission to use the Imperial databases provided she spend some time learning more about the Empire in general.

“Grathan has been a particularly bothersome thorn in my side,” Said Baras, turning away from his prisoner to focus on his Apprentice, “But you can potentially remove said thorn. Your fellow Apprentice, Dri’kill Ba’al, is my covert operative in Grathan’s compound. He claims to have made a discovery.”

“Its nature?” She asked only for Baras to give a slight shake of his head.

“Unknown, Ba’al communicates only in predetermined signals. He was to find Grathan’s exploitable weakness and today he sent the success signal. Meet him and learn what he discovered. However, Grathan is still useful. So, I don’t want him killed, just crippled.”

“Understood,” Aindri replied neutrally.

Inwardly she wished to simply execute Grathan and be done with it. He was a rogue Sith Lord who had the audacity to boldly defy the Dark Council in public. No one would be overly concerned, nor look too closely, if he disappeared.

“No doubt someday you will have your chance to slay a Sith Lord,” Said Baras, interjecting a hint of warning in his tone at sensing his apprentice’s desire, “One way or another.” He turned slowly on the agent, sparks dancing between his gloved finger, “Now then. Republic wretch, where were we?”

“I, I don’t care what you do. Break my bones, burn my flesh. I’ll tell you nothing!”

Oh yes…” Baras continued, the air thickening as crackling lightning arched between him and prisoner who writhed and screamed in pain, “Tell. Me. What. I. Wish. To. Know!”

Agonised screams resounded down the corridor following Aindri as the intense pain felt by the Republic Agent tickled her senses. The sudden ringing silence when the turbolift doors slid shut behind her and began its rapid descent was somewhat jarring.

Aindri’s mind whirred as she walked under no illusion invading a Sith compound would be easy. It would planning, skill and luck but she had yet to fail a task the Darth had set before her. Such experience would be good to have under her belt at least.

She was halfway home when her holocom chimed and slipping the object from her robes, Aindri opened a secure channel upon recognising the holocode. Accepting the call, there was a split second of static before an image of a pureblood flickered into existence.

“(Initiate. I am Ladra. Once the personal assassin of a Sith Lord, I am now the serene protector of the Master and his students. Ah I remember when I was like you. I remember my trials and the joy of killing in the Master’s name. You’re so fortunate.)”

“I decide when and where my blade falls,” She told Ladra coolly.

The woman smiled condescendingly, “(Of course, initiate but you’ll find killing as a Revanite is more fulfilling than any reason you have killed before. I contemplate Revan’s teachings as I execute intruders and heretics.)”

Heretics executing heretics, she suppressed a snort at the irony; blind leading the blind.

Her eyes narrowed at the pureblood, a Revanite.

She first became aware of the Cult of Revan when an old acquaintance, Navar Sandor, reached out to her only a week ago. His master, Darth Charnus, and _Ari’_ had enough mutual respect for each to meet whenever their time on Kass coincided. When Aindri first arrived on the planet she was introduced to Sandor, then Charnus’s newest apprentice.

“(But I also guide initiates and help determine their Trials. Through Darth Revan’s teachings and the Master’s instruction my mind is clear as yours soon will be.)” Said Ladra, eyeing her appraisingly, “(Every Revanite’s initiation includes a Trial of the Past. A rite to bind them to Revan. Yours will be very special.)”

Entering the apartment’s lift, Aindri’s eyes narrowed at the holo-image. Nothing she had done would cast suspicion on herself so they wouldn’t have discovered her subterfuge. She cursed Sandor for that, she neither enjoyed nor was a master at deception.

“(You will find the mask of Darth Revan, what he wore after becoming Sith. It’s a powerful symbol of his greatness long lost to us. The mask is in a collection of antiquities possessed by my former teacher, the Sith Lord Grathan.)”

Aindri straightened, mask hiding the grin on her face and intrigued gleam on her eyes. As Grathan’s former Apprentice, Ladra would know the compound’s layout. Such an advantage would make completing Baras’s mission much easier.

“(It must be freed from that heretic. Rescued in a rain of blood and death! I will give it a place of honour here in the compound. A place where every initiate can see it.)”

“I will need the layout of the compound and where the mask is located.”

“(But of course,)” Ladra drawled, “(I’ve already sent you the schematics. The mask is locked in one of the more secure vaults deep in the compound. The Dark Council,)” She sneered, “(Is planning to raid his estate tomorrow. I recommend you try then.)”

Ah yes, the Dark Council raid, Aindri already planned to use it as cover.

The purebloods’ image disappeared in a flash of static, lift doors opening a second later. She walked into the apartment and headed straight for the library, sliding her wet cloak from her shoulders and handing it to Mira with a nod of gratitude.

“Vette?”

“In her room, my Lady,” Mira replied, tucking away a stray hair, “Do you wish to see her?”

“Library.” She called over her shoulder and Mira sketched a quick bow.

She was amid pouring over the Grathan Estate schematics, mask set on the table beside her when Vette bounced into the room. The Twi’lek flopped onto the sofa and cocked her head in curiosity at the papers and datapads littering the desk.

“Mira said you were looking for me?”

Nodding absently, she ran her fingers through her hair and dragged a datapad to her.

One of the first things she discovered about Aindri was here tendency to get lost in her own head whenever she found something interesting. She found it a rather adorable quirk. It seemed the others main role was to make sure the Sith at least ate and got some sleep more than anything else.

Aindri glanced up and blinked before looking back down at whatever she’d been reading and humming thoughtfully, “We’ll be infiltrating Lord Grathan’s state tomorrow. Begin your preparations, we will be leaving at first light.”

There was silence, Vette staring at her unblinkingly as she took a moment for the information to sink in “Wait, a minute,” She spluttered, “Let me get this straight? Grathan’s a Sith right?”

She nodded, tapping the pad to magnify an area of the wall surrounding Grathan’s estate.

The estate itself was several thousand kilometres away from Kass City and deep in the jungle. From the scout reports, Grathan gathered a sizeable army to guard a plot of land which one could consider a small kingdom. While standing no chance against the might of the entire Imperial Army, his forces repelled what had been thrown at them thus far.

The young Sith suspected Grathan was banking on the foolish hope of making a war against him too costly for the Sith Empire. It was foolish because no Sith would easily look away from such a rebellion on their own planet and Kass was a planet full of Sith.

The Dark Council not wanting to give the impression they feared Grathan was the only reason he hadn’t been annihilated. That or, from Baras’s own stake, its members may be intentionally prolonging the conflict to distract and divert their rivals, Aindri mused.

“And we’re invading his compound?” Said Vette, drawing her attention, “With let’s see.” She ticked off her fingers, “Troopers, other Sith, droids and who knows what else?”

“Mmm hmm.”

Vette gaped at her wide eyed, “This isn’t an ‘Mmm hmm’ situation! What if we’re caught!? I seriously don’t want to be tortured or collared or die a gruesome death thank you very much! Are you insane!?”

Her voice had risen to almost hysterical levels when she gulped as Aindri fixed her with a stare. Okay maybe she’d gone too far. Vette threw her arms forward to catch a datapad which the Sith had thrown at her before it hit the floor. She looked down at it with a blink.

“Dark Council planning a raid?”

“That is when we’ll strike,” Aindri replied her eyes returning to the desk, “When Grathan’s soldiers, other Sith, droids and who knows what else are otherwise occupied.”

Vette grinned; she did love it when Aindri played into her jokes.

Aindri paused, “We will slip in amongst the chaos and use it to mask our objective."

“Huh,” Said Vette, having calmed down enough knowing her boss had an actual plan and a major distraction, “Hence the planning session?” When Aindri nodded again, Vette stood stretching with a groan, “Kay, I’ll go get my gear ready. See you downstairs?”

Aindri waved an absent hand, mind fully focused on what was before her, running through scenarios. Vette shrugged and left the room, door shutting silently behind her.

* * *

The Dark Council raid went off without a hitch, Council backed soldiers and Sith storming the rogue Lord’s walls. Aindri and Vette arrived after it had begun, the early hour affording a rare gap in the clouds. One could glimpse the Kassian moons, nothing but twin silvers in a constellation filled sky.

Slipping in amongst the chaos was a simple affair, though if they weren’t trying to be stealthy, Vette would have shouted at Aindri for Force throwing her over the wall. The Council’s forces doing a wonderful job of keeping Grathan’s occupied and the Sith snorted in contempt at the man’s lack of tactical foresight.

She would have kept some defenders back; Grathan was begging to be flanked.

Cutting down another droid, the smell and sound of burning metal filling the air, Aindri cast a calculating gaze over the area. Scrapped droids littered the ground around her along with the odd corpse of slain guards, one a few metres away rent shoulder to waist.

They were deep within the compound, right beside a mostly unguarded warehouse. Closing her eyes, the distant sounds of battle and gentle thrum of her lightsaber draining away, Aindri cast her senses outward. Passing Vette’s light, she focused on the more powerful presence in the Force.

Motioning for Vette to follow, she slipped into the building, making for the group of offices overlooking the floor thankfully free of workers. She ghosted up the stairs, her companion following closely at her heels as they moved through the shadows.

Passing the first, she turned into the second, large and bare of anything but the essentials and several crates stacked in rows against the right-hand wall. Against the left was a computer console, a dark skinned and black haired Sith in red and purple armour working at the keyboard.

“You must be the operative Lord Baras sent,” He said, turning to her with an unimpressed scowl, “I thought he’d choose a stealthy assassin, not some senseless savage.”

Tilting her head, she examined and dismissed him immediately. Oh, she had no doubt Ba’al was capable otherwise Baras wouldn’t have placed him in Grathan’s service. But dealing with petty jealously was tiring and she long since developed thick enough skin such barbs no long affected her.

 _Ari’_ for all his general laidback attitude had been sharp, gruff, sarcastic and sardonic during her own training, the elderly Sith anything but soft, verbally or physically.

“You have made a discovery on Grathan’s potential weakness,” She prompted.

Eye twitching at her dismissal, Ba’al growled, “Fine, I’ll rise above my discontent for now. Locked away here, Grathan’s been untouchable but Lord Baras wants him to know he can be reached. After a year undercover, I’ve discovered the way. Grathan has a son.”

Aindri hummed; secret sons and in rarer cases daughters were not uncommon. She herself was mostly kept away from social and political circles and so was largely unknown. Of course, as Baras’s apprentice that would change.

Aindri hummed; secret sons and in rarer cases daughters were not uncommon. She herself was mostly kept away from social and political circles and so was largely unknown. Of course, as Baras’s apprentice that would change. According to Vette, who’d visited the Nexus Room a few times, rumours were already flying of the Darth’s mysterious enforcer.

“Grathan’s kept his son a secret to protect him from his enemies.” Said Ba’al, leaning back against the rooms desk, “He would be devastated if his only child and heir was dead.”

“It would send a message,” She agreed, “Or push him into a rage.”

“Lord Baras seeks to imbalance Grathan, make him sloppy,” The other explained before he smirked at her, “Grathan’s kid is nearly twenty, and strong with the Force. He’s been trained in the ways of the Sith since birth. You’ll have your hands full.”

Those who hadn’t faced death nor know the fear? Such people would not defeat her.

“I doubt it.”

“All right, maybe underestimating your foes works for you,” Ba’al sneered, “Grathan’s away on business. I managed to hack a special spike that will get you inside his private quarters. But first, you’re going to have to knock out the surveillance stations, so you aren’t seen entering them.”

“Defences?” She asked, catching the spike he tossed her.

The schematics she had received from Ladra lacked such information which in any case would have been updated since the pureblood left. Aindri would not infiltrate the inner sanctum of a Sith compound blind.

“Linked to the surveillance system. If you don’t destroy the system before entering the private chambers, you’ll never make it,” Ba’al barely veiled the contempt drawn across his face, “All you have to do is locate the monitoring stations around the compound and well, stick your lightsaber in them. Think you can handle that, brute?”

Narrowing her eyes behind her mask, Aindri loosened the tight grip she held on the dark side within her. Stormy grey irises were stained a sickly yellow, atmosphere growing tenser and colder with each second that passed in deafening silence.

Vette glanced around nervously and Ba’al gulped, slight tremors inflicting his hands. As abruptly as it appeared did the suffocating atmosphere vanish, Aindri drawing the darkness back into her being.

“Is it so easy to get under your skin?”

Beneath her mask, Aindri smiled catlike at the distinct lack of bite in the other apprentice’s tone, her control and strength making him uneasy, and at the moments pause he had taken to collect himself.

“That’s all, then. Destroy the monitoring stations then use the pass-card to get inside Grathan’s private quarters. The son’s name is Beelzit, find him and end him.” Having regained enough of his courage, Ba’al regarded her coolly, “I’ll meet you back here when you’re done. Try not to screw up.”

They had retreated when Vette jokingly remarked, “I kind of like his attitude.”

* * *

Cellventa Grathan watched her son work, a sense of unease pooling in her stomach. She knew of the raid planned by the Council, such a thing not concerning in the slightest. Their forces would fall as all did who foolishly attacked her husband’s compound, but this was something different.

“Mother.” The voice of her son, Beelzilt, drew her from her worries as he stood from his desk to look over her shoulder, work forgotten, “A stranger approaches.”

“You don’t know the half of it kid.”

The unknown voice was distinctly non-imperial and Cellventa turned to see two figures, one of whom was a blue Twi’lek wearing clothing more armoured than regular civilians.

But it was the other who made her skin grow cold and her heart slow.

Even Force-blind one would be able to sense the power the hooded figure exuded. They were encased in black and red armour designed for ease of movement rather than the heavy armour favoured by juggernauts.

She was the source of unease the woman had been feeling.

“I am Cellvanta Grathan! How dare you enter my son’s room uninvited!” She was Sith, she would not be intimidated, and she would not show weakness, “Who are you?”

“Who I am is no concern only that I am here for your son, Lady Grathan,” Aindri replied.

Reaching the heart of the estate had been disgustingly easy, the watchtowers spotlights moving slowly. The high wall separating did nothing to stop Vette climbing a tree and vaulting the barrier and found it just as simple getting into the monitoring station.

Inside the guards were playing sabacc allowing Vette to jab in a secondary spike, deciding to hack the monitors rather than destroy them. Considering the group on guard, it was likely the looped cameras wouldn’t be noticed until daylight. Vette informed Aindri the security had been embarrassing, Grathan’s overconfidence having spread to his men.

Beyond the wall there was even less security and very little standing between them and Grathan’s son. Those who were there while the rest of the Sith Lord’s forces engaged the Council’s tried to stop them and each fell to the swing of a lightsaber or blaster shot. Even the door to the son’s quarters though advanced was rendered useless by Ba’al’s spike.

Aindri narrowed her eyes, “Stand aside.”

“You’ll have to kill me first,” Cellventa threatened, hand dropping to her saber and igniting its blade, “And while my son is still an acolyte, I am fully Sith. Beelzlit, take cover!”

“No, mother,” Beelzilt shouted, drawing his practice saber, “I stand at your side, attack!”

As much as Cellventa loved her son and knew he loved in return, sometimes she wished he listened to her. As it was, the enemy Sith defeated him easily and it was she who was fighting for her life. Lightsaber clashing against lightsaber, flowing across the room in a deadly dance of plasma.

“Stop!” Aindri paused at the mothers shout, blade poised to deal the killing blow, “You are more than a match for us! But if we are to die, I must know what have done to deserve it.”

“I kill your son to wound your husband. The moment he was born, it was a possibility.”

Cellventa could not deny the other Sith’s claim, it was for that exact reason she and her husband had kept their son’s birth secret. But even prepared for the eventuality, it still tore at the mother’s heart.

“Mother, if I am the target, save yourself. I don’t want to see you die.”

Laying her hands on her son’s shoulders, Cellventa looked him in the eye, “My son, you must not sacrifice yourself for anyone, not even me. You must endure at all costs. Assassin, you’ve carved your way into the inner sanctum of Lord Grathan’s compound, all to kill a boy? You are a breath away from the master himself. Spare us and I’ll help you destroy Lord Grathan instead.”

“You want me to kill your husband?” She asked amused, “Aren’t you the dutiful wife?”

“I married Lord Grathan for power. It was a means to an end, now I want out. I’m strong but can’t touch my husband,” Said Cellventa, burning at admitting weakness but needing to if she wanted the other’s aide, “How long I’ve waited for someone to end his oppressive rule.”

And with any luck her husband and the would-be-assassin killed each other.

Behind her mask Aindri’s eyes narrowed, political marriages weren’t uncommon and when ended it was normally with a dead spouse and plenty of fake tears. If she aided the woman, she would gain an ally true, but Grathan’s position against the Council meant the support she received would be limited and not necessarily useful.

Those who opposed the Dark Council did not last long.

She would at least give them the mercy of a quick death, even if their suffering would likely off balance Grathan even further, “My orders are clear.”

Panic alighted in the mothers’ eyes and she moved to push her son away only to be cut down by Aindri’s lightsaber. Righting himself, Beelzilt looked up to see Cellventa’s body hit the floor and gave a roar of rage. He swung wildly, and she slipped under his guard to impale him through the heart.

“You’re disappointed.” Aindri intoned, sensing Vette was upset.

“Well no, I mean kind of, I,” Sighing Vette shut her eyes and breathed deeply, “I suppose he was nearly an adult and she _was_ planning to kill her husband plus you are Sith. You just don’t act like a typical one so I kinda forgot? If that makes sense.” And she was rambling, great, “I just still have to get used to all the Sithy craziness.”

Aindri sighed when Vette lowered her head and lifted the others chin, “Do not get used to anything,” She said softly, “Keep holding to your convictions, Vette. I am Sith but do not change for me.”

Vette stared at her wide-eyed as Aindri stepped away, dropping her chin, before a grin broke out across her face. Oh yeah, if the Sith didn’t have her loyalty and friendship before she had it then.

“You got it my Lord. Now can we go please?” She asked, expression sheepish, “I don’t really want to be here when the lord of the manor forces uses us for target practice.”

* * *

Ba’al snapped his head up as presence brushed his senses, eyes widening when he identified them as the other Apprentice. He had thought her a simple brute, unlikely to succeed even if she’d the foresight to infiltrate during the raid. But the masked apprentice couldn’t even do something as simple as hide her presence making stealth impossible.

So, he was surprised she had completed their master’s task.

“I’m surprised you survived,” Said Ba’al, his expression one of mocking contempt as the other and her Twi’lek slave entered the office, “So is it done? Is Grathan’s son dead?”

“The deed is done.” She replied.

Stoic as ever he could see and Ba’al sneered, “Doesn’t say much for Grathan’s security forces if a clumsy clod like you was able to bang into his private chamber and off his son.”

Vette couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor fool as the boss cocked her head, regarding him like a he was brand new toy given to her to play with. Well okay, she didn’t really feel all that sorry for him. He had been insulting Aindri every chance he got, and they weren’t even very original.

“I find your empty chatter amusing.” She intoned hiding her amusement.

“You’ll find my lightsaber a bit sobering,” Ba’al growled drawing his saber, “Killing the murderer of Grathan’s son will solidify my cover here. Baras can replace you easily.”

“Well it’s been a pleasure making you acquaintance Ba’al.” Aindri drawled sarcastically.

Igniting her blade, she darted forward.

Her speed caught him by surprise, and he had to immediately gone onto the defensive as she struck at him with lightning fast strikes and brutal ferocity. Ba’al lifted his lightsaber for another strike only to freeze when he felt a burning pain in his gut.

Looking down he stared uncomprehending at the plasma beam spearing his stomach and when turned his gaze to the other his mouth dropped open, she hadn’t broken a sweat.

“Not even a warm up then.” Vette quipped when Aindri gave a subtle shake of the head.

“I thought he would provide more of a challenge.” She replied calmly.

“Yeah well what you gonna do?” Vette responded lacing her hands behind her head, “Not all of us can be uber-level enforcers. Can we seriously get out of here now?”

Clipping her deactivated saber to her belt, Aindri retraced their steps through the estate, Vette following with a hop, a skip and a jump. They reached the north wall quickly, taking only a brief detour to retrieve Revan’s mask from the estates secure vault. Slipping back through was as easy as entering and soon they were moving through thick jungle.

Beeps cut through the silence and Aindri frowned; it was her emergency channel.

“(Young mistress.)”

Seban’s voice was laced with distress and a deep sense of worry gnawed at her gut. She’d been feeling somewhat restless sense this morning, a sense of foreboding which she’d pushed to the back of her mind to focus on her dual missions. But it returned in full force.

“(There’s been an attack. A Harrow was destroyed and the debris falling on the city.)”

Her heart near stopped, “Which?”

“(The Dominator, young mistress, sabotaged by terrorists. Darth Jadus was aboard.)”

“Terrorists? Intelligence would not release that kind of information.”

“(They sliced the public and private holocoms. A man named the Eagle took credit.)”

“I see,” She replied tightly, restraining her panic, “Mira, Shee?”

“(I am unsure,)” Replied Seban, also doing his best to remain calm, “(They were out when the attack happened, and I have been unable to contact them due to comm traffic).

“Prioritise communication and ensure they are safe and unharmed,” Aindri ordered him, “Once you have done so, begin helping with rescue and recovery efforts.”

Seban bowed, “(Understood. I will contact you once I have located them.)”

“What’s wrong?” Asked Vette walking over when she realised Aindri had stopped, shrugging when she turned her on her, “You’re clenching your fist,” She explained.

Aindri glanced down to see her fists where white knuckled and she took a deep breath, unclenching her fists with a frustrated sigh, “There was an assassination attempt on a Dark Councillor. A dreadnaught was sabotaged over Kass City.”

“What?” Vette shrieked, “Will they be okay?”

“They will be fine.” Said Aindri, “There is nothing we can do not regarding Jadus.”

“Eh, who?”

She glanced sideways at Vette who wore a confused expression, haven gotten so used to her presence she’d briefly forgotten the Twi’lek didn’t grow up in the Empire. While the Twi’lek had been studying, she still did not know the intricacies of its power structure.

“The Dark Council is composed of the twelve strongest Sith, each overseeing one twelfth of the Empire,” Aindri explained as they resumed their trek, “Darth Jadus governs the Sphere of Imperial Intelligence, Darth Vengean, Baras’s master heads Military Offense.”

“So, if the war started again, we’d be stuck on the front lines?” Vette asked, groaning when she nodded, “Wonderful. Way to cheer a girl up.”

Aindri’s lips twitched upward, “It will be glorious.”

“Keeping telling yourself that,” Vette muttered under her breath, “You know…”

Aindri held up her hand for silence when her holocom blinked with another incoming call and Vette snapped her jaw shut as Baras’s ghostly blue image flickered into existence.

“(I see I’ve managed to get a hold of you, Apprentice. Good,)” Baras greeted seriously hands fixed at his back, “(I trust you have heard the news regarding the terrorist attack?)”

“I have, my Lord. I am also aware of the protocols.”

“(Then you know travel to and from Kass City has been locked down and all traffic grounded?)” He continued at her nod, “(It will be few days until the lock-down is lifted. I expect you to be in my chambers as soon as that is the case.)”

“As your command, my Lord.” She bowed her head.

“(Good. Now onto the business at hand. I haven’t heard from Dri’kill Ba’al, my agent in Grathan’s camp. Was your mission a success?)”

“Grathan’s son is dead.”

“(A son?)” He asked a touch of smug glee in his tone, “(Most excellent apprentice, my confidence in you is growing. I will speak to you upon your return.)”

“If we can’t get into Kass City, where are we going to sleep tonight?” Vette asked worried.

“Do not worry, Vette,” Aindri replied, “I know someone who can accommodate us.”

* * *

Flames danced high into the sky, crackling wood turning pitch black as it snapped and popped with the heat. It was one of those rare mornings on Kass where the rain had yet to start, allowing for a fire to be lit and chase the chill from their bones. Aindri sat alone by the fire, Vette still sleeping.

Arriving late in the Revanite camp, Vette had been too tired to ask why there was a camp in the middle of dense jungle with no advantage other than its isolation. They received a hot and tasty meal and the normally energetic Twi’lek said it was enough for her.

She found the camp secreted away far off the beaten path along the Riverfall Wilds after following an Imperial Officer from one of Baras’s meetings. He had been marked as a Revanite by Sandor who gave her a small list of known cultists and a stone medallion to gain her entrance.

They had met in a well-known café over looking the monument to Darth Ergast, stone monoliths framed by ever-burning blue flames. It was always busy with patrons; the constant drone of conversation drowning them out to anyone who wished to listen. That made the café a favourite meeting spot for Sith of various affiliations.

There she learned Darth Charnus tasked Sandor to find and expose the heretical Cult of Revan. Imperials following the teachings of a man long dead who crushed armies as a Jedi and taught thousands of dark apprentices as a Sith. They had been secretly recruiting for years, individuals at every stratum of Imperial society, defying the Emperor and Council.

Charnus wanted to expose the cults leader but Sandor could not get close and asked her to do so. While everyone knew of _Ari’_ s’ loyalty to the Empire as an ally of Darth Marr, he kept Aindri away from the spotlight. She hadn’t interacted all too much with high society or Sith circles and as an unknown was in a much better position to infiltrate the cult.

All she had to do was earn their trust and once she gained their respect earn an audience with the leader, then Sandor would handle the rest. To that end she met Dzoun, a senior cultist, and after showing him the medallion was welcomed with open arms. He described their camp as a haven built by the ‘Master’ where they learned about Revan.

History wrote Revan returned to and died on Kass and Dzoun said the ‘Master’ came to preserve Revan’s way of life. They bid the cultists and initiates to do the same, walk the path of light and dark, war and peace. Aindri took part in the cults rituals and spend time with the men and woman who spent their lives uncovering Revan’s works.

Only then would she be able to meet the ‘Master’ who would give her final lessons.

Jhorval was the Revanite who oversaw her Trial of Death, born from the stories of Revan dying by Jedi and Sith hands. Stripped of his power, life and memory he relearned the ways of the Force and was reborn as something more. Jhorval said it would unbind her from all oaths and promises.

There was a path leading away from the camp, and at the end of the path was a cave, an alter littered with artefacts and statue of Revan hidden within. She meditated, receiving a vision of Revan stalking through a curtain of flames before shouting in agony as she was burned by lightning.

Dying felt different, she felt different, but while an interesting experience, it was not something she wanted to do again soon. Aindri returned to a proud Jhorval who wished the Force would make her strong as she began her new life as a Revanite, choosing allegiance to the Order of Revan first of all.

Thinking back to the alter and the artefacts scattered over the surface it was obvious in retrospect what her next trial would be. When looking at the shrine it evoked the feeling of something missing, there was no mask. Out of all of Revan’s possessions the most famous, most symbolic, was his mask.

Looking down, she carefully turned the object around in her hands. The mask was well preserved, and she could sense the power ingrained in its very surface, but it wasn’t in any shape to wear.

Then there were those faded images she experienced when first holding it.

An eons old temple, older than any she’d ever seen, on a tropical planet with aquamarine waters. A planet steeped in darkness and a broken man kneeling in a circular courtyard as cold cruel laughter filled the air. Ground covered with lifeless bodies, faces and surroundings obscured by a dark mist.

“Ah! Good morning Initiate.” Aindri looked up from her cooking to see Ladra and pushed thoughts of the vision away, “I see you have finally returned. Did you, did you see the mask? Wasn’t it amazing?”

When Aindri held out the mask, the pureblood’s demeanour became one of awe and reverence. She reached out and carefully took hold of the artefact, cradling it in her arms like a new-born baby.

“Ah! Good morning Initiate.” Aindri looked up from her cooking to see Ladra and pushed thoughts of the vision away, “I see you have finally returned. Did you, did you see the mask? Wasn’t it amazing?”

When Aindri held out the mask, the pureblood’s demeanour became one of awe and reverence. She reached out and carefully took hold of the artefact, cradling it in her arms like a new-born baby.

“Oh, I never thought I’d see it again. Free from Grathan’s prison and from the hands of heretics. It’s a wonderful day.” Her expression turned dreamy, “I wish I’d been there, cutting those apprentices to pieces again and again.” Ladra coughed, bringing herself under control, “But it was your trial. Your privilege. I can’t finish your initiation, only the Master can do that, but I can recognize achievement. You’ve done so very well. The mask will guide us forevermore. Now for... ah Raymon!”

Aindri arched a brow when Ladra waved to someone walking across the camp and half-turned to inspect the new arrival. He was a bald man wearing Revanite robes with a lightsaber attached to his hip. The man eyed her critically, raising her brow at Ladra.

“Another new initiate?” He sighed frustratedly, “Really, the camps getting less secure all the time.”

“Yes, yes.” Ladra waved carelessly earning a glare from Raymon, “But we should always work to spread the teachings of Revan.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously, “Unless you doubt the Master?”

“Do not question my commitment Ladra,” Raymon snapped in anger, “I’m sure the Master knows what he’d doing. Besides...” He looked her up and down, “It is up to us, not the Master, to judge whether initiates can follow the Ways of Revan and their worth.”

“Exactly,” Ladra chirped enthusiastically, either ignoring or oblivious to Raymon’s irritation, “Teach her and judge her worth. She did wonderfully during her Trial of the Past, so I’m sure she will pass.”

Raymon sighed explosively, “Alright fine. Listen here, Initiate, Revan didn’t work alone. He had allies, all walks of life. We’re no different. You want to join us; you need to face the men and woman who got here first and who’ve proved they’re loyal to the Master.”

“What would you have me do?”

“You need to show those in the Masters’ inner circle that you understand Revan’s teachings. They’ll ask questions. You’ll answer. If they’re not satisfied, they’ll abandon the Trial of Wisdom and begin to test your strength. Revan didn’t suffer the weak.”

“I expect nothing less.” Aindri nodded, “I will do what is need.”

“See,” Ladra beamed, “She’s an utter treat! Good luck, initiate, may you rip past the competition.”

Raymon growled as Ladra flounced away, his annoyance rippling through the Force, “Your pilgrimage starts in the jungle, you’ll meet your first guide there. He’ll determine whether you’re worth sending on to the rest,” Turning on his heel, he stomped away.

“What’s his deal?” Yawned Vette who’d walked up eating a ration bar, handing her a cup of Muja juice and taking a sip, she shrugged, “Okay well what are we doing today?” Vette yawned again, glancing around with open curiosity, “And what is this place?”

“Do what you wish but remain here. And we’re in the Revanite camp, a cult.”

“Yeah you know what I’m not surprised,” Vette sighed after a moment, “Well I’m happy with a free day. When will be back?” She called as Aindri walked away.

“Evening.” The Sith tossed over her shoulder before disappearing into the trees.

“Right.” Vette muttered before shrugging and heading back to their tent.

Maybe she could take a nap.

* * *

Water splashed against boots as Aindri crossed a stream, gaze focused on the mercenary camp ahead. A Sith called Morrun Dokaas had been her first guide, an alien strong in the Force who the Revanite’s Master had gone against the Empire’s traditions to train.

He questioned why Revan taught all species the path to power and gave knowledge to anyone who sought it. She answered Revan understood people were more useful when they had skill and power.

He judged her answer wise and pointed her to Ceta Farr to proceed with her pilgrimage.

She drew the odd stare as she entered the camp and she could feel eyes zooming in on her lightsaber. From the looks of their armour all were Mandalorian, surprising her given Revan’s history with the warrior dominant culture.

“Takan!” Yelled a blond-haired woman and a helmeted Mandalorian jogged over, “Have some of the men head into the city. They’ve earned a break from training.”

“Yes Commander.” He saluted before running back to his group who talked excitedly.

“It is good to see you alive,” Said the Mandalorian, turning to her, “Not everyone survives Morrun. Raymon contacted me from the base, said you wanted to join. Is it true?”

She inclined her in greeting, “I am seeking the inner circles approval.”

The Mandalorian nodded, “I’m Ceta Farr and centuries ago, my clan was one of those who fought Revan when we invaded the Republic with the other Mandalorians. It was our privilege to battle Jedi and while we may have lost the war that was a privilege too. It’s out of respect for Revan and a matter of honour that I agreed to join the Master.”

Ah, Aindri mused, that would make sense, Mandalorians took honour very seriously.

“I serve the order to ensure Revan’s name isn’t forgotten. Revan was a warrior, a leader and deserves to be remembered,” Farr continued, pausing to look at the Sith appraisingly, “Since you’re not bound by honour, how do I know you won’t sully the Dark Lord’s memory? What can you do for the order in Revan’s name?”

“I will learn all I can about Revan’s past.” Aindri replied carefully, if Farr wanted Revan’s name to be remembered then she would want his deeds remembered as well, “Make sure he is remembered.”

Farr eyed her a moment before acquiescing, “Fine. The order has enough warriors. You might be able to serve. You’ll need to talk to one more person before you head back to the compound. Find Major Pathel, he oversees security on the Wall. Glory to Mandalore and glory to our Master.”

Turning away Aindri frowned, the Wall had been were the Council staged their raid of Grathan’s estate. The Revanites had really sunk their claws into the Empire, if they had a Major in their ranks. It was little wonder Darth Charnus deemed them a threat.

Hastening her steps, she pulled her cloak close to avoid snagging fallen branches and bushes. Her boots were light on the ground so twigs wouldn’t snap underfoot and reveal her position to predators. She spied the Wall through the trees, a figure standing in the shadows of its line. He wore a military uniform, the stripes marking his rank as Major.

“Come on over.” He called, walking further into the trees, “There’s nothing to trouble us here, and we can speak freely.” He gave a short bow, “Major Pathel, at your service.”

Closing the distance, Aindri leant against a tall tree and gave a the major a small tilt of the head in greeting and motioned for him to continue to which he gave a welcoming smile.

“It’s always wonderful to meet new initiates. The Order of Revan needs all the dedicated young people it can get. I don’t know how your other meetings went, but I like to conduct these interviews informally. No point making life difficult eh?” When the Sith remained silent he coughed awkwardly and cleared his throat, “Right well, quite a few initiates, young officers, acolytes and the like, think our ‘secret society’ will help them become Moffs or Dark Lords. You’re not like that I presume?”

The air grew thicker and Pathel had to squash down an urge to tug at his collar or his flight and fight response from activating. Then returned to normal so quick the Major thought he had imagined it.

Pathel laughed nervously, “Sorry, I didn’t think you were, but not every initiate realises advancement in the Revanites does not guarantee the same in the Empire nor how dangerous being a Revanite really is. After all the Dark Council itself seeks to root us out.” He looked at the Sith in a considering manner, “So how do we respond? How do we answer the Empire’s accusations of heresy?”

Aindri leaned her head back against the tree as she considered her answer, “We show them the truth,” She returned her gaze to Pathel, “And defend ourselves if necessary.”

“You are right,” Pathel smiled, impressed with her answer, “We will show them the truth wherever we can but won’t become traitors to the Empire either. That’s all I needed to make my judgement. I’m going to send a message to the compound. Raymon will be waiting for you. Journey safely and be proud to be a part of the Order of Revan.”

She watched the Major leave and glanced at the Wall, considering commandeering a speeder but dismissing the idea. It could be traced back to the Revanites and she doubted Baras would be pleased his newest Apprentice had joined a cult. Tugging down her hood, Aindri disappeared into the trees, none but Pathel even aware of her presence there.

* * *

 

Raymon indeed waited for her return, complementing her completion of the pilgrimage and the final member of the inner circle approved her initiation. Aindri was eating dinner with Vette by the fire when Dzoun came to bring her before the Revanite’s Master.

“I’ve been hearing about your progress with your trials,” He sunk down beside her, sparks dancing into the air as he stirred the fire, “Your initiation hasn’t been an easy one.”

Aindri gave a small shrug, trials would not be trials if they were easy to complete.

“You’ve met the challenge and showed you can walk Revan’s path. Now you may undergo the final rite. The Master will complete your lessons, and you’ll be welcomed as a full member of the Order of Revan. It is a great privilege; the Master reveals himself to no one outside the order.”

Likely for fear of capture, interrogation and execution by the Council, Aindri mused.

“Go to the Master.” Dzoun nodded to a tent at far end of the camp, one only the inner circle could enter, “He is waiting for you. Listen to him, obey him and through the Master, you will know Revan.”

Vette raised a brow as Dzoun rose, glancing at Aindri when he was out of earshot, “Wait Revan? As in that super well-known Sith Lord a few centuries back? Huh,” She said at Aindri’s nod, “Neat. Want me to come with?”

Aindri paused in consideration but shook her head, “I imagine it’s a private audience.”

Vette shrugged, “Suite yourself. I’ll probably be in the tent when you get back. Oh, by the way Seban contacted me to say Mira and Shee are fine,” She called out, “They’re opening up travel to Kass city tomorrow!”

Raising a hand in acknowledgement, Aindri pushed the flap of the tent aside, arching a brow at the low lighting and holoterminal in the centre. Leaning down, she palmed she activator button, stepping back as an image of Revan himself burst to life.

“(You who have died and been reborn, stand before me now. You who have reclaimed the ancient past, stand before me now. You who have demonstrated power and wisdom to my followers look upon me the Master of the Order of Revan. This is the end of your initiation and the beginning of your true journey. You will walk the path of Revan forevermore. The enemies of the order will force you to move in shadows. But we shall keep you secrets safe, as you shall keep ours.)”

Her hand dropped to her hip and the hilt of her lightsaber, thumb resting on the activation toggle. She turned towards a space shrouded in shadow, sensing a presence pulsing strongly in the Force.

“You have my apologies initiate, no Revanite, but the ruse served its purpose.” From the shadows came a dark-skinned woman, black hair swept in a ponytail and red tattoos from forehead to chin, “And it felt appropriate in how Revan’s own gender is unclear in many of our records. However now the time for subterfuge is over, know me for who I am.”

Aindri nodded, in her position she’d have done the same, “I understand the need for secrecy.”

The Master gave her a wan smile, “Yes, especially with how badly the Council wants me dead. Still I apologise for the deception, and for meeting you sooner.”

“What makes the order such a threat?” She asked with genuine curiosity.

“Revan came to Dromund Kass after being reborn. Some believe Revan died at the hands of our Emperor. I believe otherwise. I believe Revan overthrow the Emperor and has sat secretly on the throne for three centuries. Aside from our order, only the Dark Council knows the truth.”

Heretical thoughts at the highest order then, Aindri mused, finding it more likely the Emperor entrapped Revan instead, siphoning his every secret, “You have proof of this?”

“I have heard whispers in the Citadel that for decades, the Emperor has been in seclusion no longer speaking even to the Council. The only explanation is the Dark Council betrayed their leader and locked Emperor Revan away, seizing power. They seek to silence us because we know. We will free the Emperor and expose the truth, but for now I need your help with a different matter. My agents tell me you know a Sith named Sandor?”

Body language neutral, she said carefully, “He runs in the same circles as my uncle.”

“He seeks to destroy the Revanites and you are the only one in a position to end his threat. Go to Sandor and tell him that you met with the Revanite leader. Tell him that the leader is his own master, Darth Charnus.”

“We are not close. Why would he believe me?”

“I obtained this Sith amulet from Charnus,” The Master gave her a devious smirk and handed her an very old piece of jewellery, “Give to Sandor and he’ll believe you stole it from his master while among the Revanites. They will turn against each other. But when this is done and when you’ve spoken to Sandor… you cannot return here.”

Aindri hummed, “So, Sandor must never suspect my true allegiance.”

“Yes. It will not be easy, the path to power, the path neither Jedi nor Sith walk but you must walk the path of Revan alone. May the Force be with you. May it make you strong.”

Leaving the tent, Aindri stretched her muscles before glancing up at the sky. It seemed her time with the cult was finally at an end. Good riddance as well. She would contact Sandor in the morning on her and Vette’s return to Kass City but for now her bedroll was calling with the seductive pull of Morpheus’s realm.

* * *

 

“The master of the lightsaber returns,” Sandor smirked.

Aindri rolled her eyes in response as she took off her mask and placed it on the desk.

True to Vette’s word they had been able to enter Kass City that morning and had returned to the apartment to clean up before they would report to Baras for debriefing. She had only been minimally surprised when Sandor awaited her in the foyer, Vette peeling off as the Apprentice’s went upstairs.

“It must have taken great willpower not to leave the cultists alive long enough to investigate them.”

“I managed,” She deadpanned, stripping her cloak and setting aside her outer armour for cleaning, “She’s a Sith Lord. Dark skin, black hair, red facial tattoos.”

Entering the refresher, Aindri felt more than saw Sandor frown as he followed her and leaned against the doorway. There was a flash of recognition as he finally realised who the other talked about. He had seen the Sith with his Master before.

“I know her. Yes, I know her.” He waved a hand vaguely at her arched brow, “She’s a Sith called Tari Darkspanner. Darth Charnus knows her,” Sandor smiled predatorily, “We can use her. The Dark Council will strip her of her power, her mind and her life.”

Humming, Aindri felt hot breath on her neck and a pair of arms sliding around her waist.

“Thanks to you, we now have the means to obliterate this society of heretics,” Said Sandor, his broad chest pressed against her back, “The name Revan will be spoken on Dromund Kass no more.”

“My master is expecting me.” She told him as Sandor nipped at her throat.

“Oh, I reckon we can make time.”

Like most teenagers she experimented, and Sandor had been more willing to help in her explorations. It tapered off by the time she was in her late teens but they still, saw, each other on the odd occasion. Still she had already made Baras wait three days due to the _Dominator_ Incident.

Aindri would admit to breathing a sigh of relief when she learned Mira and Shee were safe and unharmed bar a few scrapes and bruises. Mira in particular received a nasty cut but was otherwise fine. They all helped rescue civilians trapped by the wreckage.

“Baras does not seem like someone who likes waiting. Or would you coerce me Sandor?”

“You uncle would skin me alive and hang me from the Citadel by my entrails,” Sandor snorted, of course that was only if Aindri didn’t decapitated him first, and pulled away from her, “Oh well maybe next time. Thanks for the information. See you Hallow.”

“Sandor,” She called, tossing him the amulet, “I believe this belongs to your master.”

Sandor looked down at the amulet, surprise flickering through his eyes before he nodded his thanks and left the room. Rolling her shoulders, she stripped off the rest of her clothes and stepped into the shower, warm water gushing down her back to wash way her sweat.


	10. Temple of Darkness

“I cannot break him!”

Vette balked, wincing as Baras’s gruttle scream echoed down the corridor, a grim testament to his unbridled and impotent rage. His fury tore through the Force and Aindri paused, cocking her head before turning to her companion. Whatever was happening within the chamber was not something the Twi’lek would wish to see.

“Remain here.”

“Yeah, I’ll wait here.” Vette nervously looked down the hall, Baras must be really pissed because everyone, even Sith, had been avoiding there like the Rakghoul Plague, “Thanks.”

Aindri turned away and entered Baras’s chambers, cloak stroking the floor and armoured boots clicking on metal. The sharp smell of ozone saturated the room and burn marks scored the walls. The creature strapped to the interrogation table barely resembled the agent first defrosted from carbonite.

Dried black blood covered the table’s surface as fresh blood trailed from dozens of cuts and the fabric from the man’s shredded uniform were imbedded in his wounds. A hand was gone as was his nose.

“My Lord.” She bowed, eyeing the droplets of blood staining the Darth’s turquoise robes.

“Mind your tongue or I will cut it out!” Baras roared, anger pushing his voice to overcome the screech of rending durasteel, “This is impossible. This Republic agent is the key to unlocking everything we face. But he resists _everything!_ ” He drove a gloved hand into the prisoner’s stomach who coughed up fetid yellow bile, “Some unknown power must be shielding this man and it defies me!”

“Trust your feelings master.”

Laughing mirthlessly, a trickle of amusement broke through Baras’s rage, “The minion advises the master. Very good, you demonstrate your progress.” He turned to face his Apprentice, “Word has spread Lord Grathan is incensed at the slaying of his secret son while Ba’al has missed his scheduled communication,” He paused, arching a brow, “Let me guess, he gave you trouble did he?”

“None, master.”

She didn’t bother to hide her true meaning, Baras likely not caring about the loss of an apprentice. A Sith, is expected to orchestrate their own promotion, Ba’al simply tried and failed in securing one. It was one of their many occupational hazards.

Baras chuckled, a reply given without hesitation and a dash of satisfaction, “I can sense the truth behind your words, Apprentice. No matter Ba’al can be replaced. Now, back to my prisoner. There’s one last possibility to break him. I though it impossible, but perhaps there’s a chance you could pull it off. You’re aware of the Dark Temple I presume?”

Aindri inclined her head, glancing at the chambers west wall behind which she sensed the endless flow of darkness several miles distant. An epicentre of dark Force energy even more potent than some of Korriban’s tombs.

She heard many tales of that place, none of them were pleasant.

“Over a millennium ago, the Emperor conducted horrifying experiments in the bowels of the Temple, draining the knowledge and essence of the greatest Sith Lords of the time,” Baras glided over to a desk, bringing up an image, “He created a device called the Ravage which ate his victims’ minds and delivered their greatest secrets. Nothing and no one could withstand the it’s intrusion.”

She eyed the display, such power wrapped up in a simple metal diadem, “You wish for me to retrieve it.”

“Indeed, Apprentice,” Said Baras, switching off the holodisplay, “It can be found in the Dark Temple which in the Emperor’s absence has become a death trap.”

“Only the Council and the Emperor my enter the Temple,” Aindri reminded him.

Clasping his hands behind his back, Baras paced, “Under normal circumstances you are correct. However, Darth Arctis sent an archaeological expedition a few months ago. What remains of that expedition was driven insane and attacks on sight. With the chaos around the Temple and the city from the terrorist attack you will be able to enter unnoticed.”

“Understood, my Lord. It will be done.”

Ceasing his pacing, Baras turned on her, “See that you do. Legends describe a secret chamber in the depths of the Temple were the Ravager is encased. You’ll know the device by its inscription.” Presence growing in the Force, his voice darkened, “This is worth your life to me, Apprentice. Be swift.”

With a shallow bow, Aindri left Baras and his chambers behind but not before a last look at the battered and feebly moaning Republic agent. Throwing her hood back up over her mask, she met Vette who was leaning against the wall fiddling with her lekku nervously.

“How much did you hear?” She asked as they departed.

“Mostly angry yelling,” Vette answered, “So... Baras give you anything to do or...?”

“We must retrieve something from the Dark Temple. A, device, invented by the Emperor.”

Vette blanched, “Err, I really don’t like the sound of that. And you sound worried. I’ve never heard you sound worried.”

“The Temple was sealed for a reason.” Aindri admitted with a frown.

“Great,” Vette deadpanned and gave her puppy dog eyes, “Can I stay here? Please?”

Aindri considered the request but shook her head, “I will need assistance.” She smirked sardonically at Vette when she groaned, “You’re not afraid of ghosts are you, Vette?”

“Course not!” The Twi’lek replied indignantly, “Long-dead Sith can’t possible any scarier than live ones.”

Vette then registered the challenge in Aindri’s voice, and she couldn’t say no without sounding like a coward, which she totally wasn’t, and she wanted to prove she wasn’t.

Yep, she fell for it hook line and sinker.

“Oh, alright fine,” Vette grumbled, “But if I die, I reserve the right to haunt you.”

Returning to the apartment for supplies, enough to last them a full day, they headed down to the garage. Vette salivated when Aindri tossed her the key card for a dark blue Aratech speeder and shifted around to get comfortable in the seat. Turned out she wouldn’t need to hotwire one after all.

For the trip Aindri choose her own favourite bike, a sleek Aratech Nightscythe, and swung a leg over the speeder slotting in the key card. The readout flickered to life in a bright blue glow. She briefly closed her eyes, savouring the gruttle purr as the engines came to life then nudged the speeder out of its space.

Garage doors slid open upon passing over its motion sensor and Aindri pulled back on the handlebars and pressed down with the balls of her feet. Vette followed close behind her as they cruised the Kass City streets, leaving the city through its western entrance.

They passed through the expansion district just outside the city limits and entered the jungle. Clear of pedestrians and speeder traffic, Aindri revved her speeders engines and accelerated. Slaloming around trees and rocky outcroppings with an ease born of Force-sensitivity, a wide carefree smile spread across her face.

Vette waved at her from between the trees and swung her speeder, so it cut across her path and then slowed to come alongside her with a grin. Aindri could feel the Twi’lek’s joy radiating through the Force and if Vette was Force-sensitive she would sense her own.

“We’ve been travelling a good couple of hours now. So... we there yet?”

Closing her eyes, Aindri stretched her senses to feel out the shadows, the Temple calling out with its seductive pull and nodded towards the mountains, “On the other side.”

“So, we go in higher or low?”

“Through then around. We will avoid most IRS officers and slaves.”

“IRS?” Vette asked in confusion.

“Imperial Reclamation Service. They are mandated with discovering and protecting Sith relics,” She explained, understanding dawn on the other’s face and throttled her bikes engine, “Come. The quicker we get this done, the quicker we leave.”

“Do need to tell me twice,” Replied Vette, gunning her own accelerator to race after her.

* * *

One did not go into the Kassian jungles to shirk training, quite the opposite as you would run afoul of its wildlife, but the Dark Temple was something entirely different. It was not only a place where the Force not only gathered in strength but was decisively a nexus from which the Dark Side welled.

Aindri knew the Emperor used the Temple as the site of his experiments and manipulated the Force to make the place an epicentre of dark energy. But knowing was different to experiencing it first-hand.

Rain was a fact of life on Dromund Kass but there the weather turned utterly vicious, heavy, hard rain, lightning and thunder. It was also so very cold. Aindri wasn’t surprised, Kass’s storms wracked skies were another product of the Emperor’s experiments so they would be worse.

She could feel the Temple even miles away but in sight of the structure it was like being under a waterfall, so strong was the Dark Side’s presence. Aindri even stopped to stand rigid and breath deeply as the pressure of power, malevolent and dark, pressed against her. Force-blind, Vette was barely better off but still she shivered and moved closer.

The rain and cold was barely felt, the Dark Side so strong its presence blunted all other perceptions. Terrifying, awe-inspiring and distracting. Passing beneath a towering obelisk, carving of an all-seeing eye at its apex, Aindri could feel rage, woe, terror and hatred.

It made Korriban with its ancient brooding darkness, feel almost like a vacation spot.

A massive building, slanted sides topped by horn like pillars, it was sunk into a cleared area; the jungle not even trying to eat the Temple. In fact, there was a clear outline between the space it occupied and that of the jungles. As if it had its own force of will, the Temple’s energies holding the jungle back or as if the jungle itself and recoiled from it.

Minutes had passed when Aindri felt herself, acclimating to the strength of the Force and the potency of the darkness. Finally, she approached the Temple and entered its chilly interior. Cold as the outside but without the wind and rain, a double sensation, the malevolent chill a result of the Force brooding.

Shaking off the water, Aindri took the lead as she and Vette ventured deeper inside. The air slid sinister over their skin as if studying them and seeing where and how they could fit into the scheme of things. Then there were the spirits of the Sith Lords entombed within, the young Sith feeling them moment she entered.

They drifted, like froth on a stormy sea, on the dark currents in the Force. Alternating between activity or dormancy, filled with fear or great anger. Whispers lilted in her ear with promises of power, of corruption, forcing Aindri to retreat further behind her shields.

Beyond them, Aindri held an awareness of the individual eddies and movements within the Force. The delicate fluctuations of energy enabled her to perceived others wills and those smaller wills seeking to take form. Something that could experience and be experienced. It was through these Aindri was warned whenever Vette tried to grab things.

Vette thought she had learned her lesson on Korriban to not touch Sith artefacts unwittingly. But it took a slave who’d somehow managed to stay sane touching a spherical object and becoming possessed for the lesson to finally sink into her skull.

She walked through the temple more warily after that, only touching what Aindri gave permission to touch. Through when looking back, Vette was pretty sure it had been the Temple’s influence which made her want to pick-up these objects in the first place.

Aindri later told Vette when they had returned home it was a testament to her own mental strength the Twi’lek didn’t fully succumb to the place’s effects. Most non-sensitives would have been driven fully mad merely be being in the Temple’s vicinity.

Branching off the temple’s main hall were long passageways and they searched each one before finding the Ravager in a dimly lit chamber at the end of a south-eastern passage.

“Force.” Aindri muttered

The Ravager was missing parts and looking what was missing they were important. If Aindri had to guess, she would say a slave had likely dismantled since an IRS officer would know better than to do so without certain precautions. It was also likely recent, and artefact as ancient as the Ravager would have been covered in dust but there was none.

“What more work?” Vette peered into the stone chest where the Ravager was stored.

She had never heard the Sith saying anything remotely close to swearing before.

“We will have to reclaim the pieces to repair it,” She informed her.

The Twi’lek groaned, “Great, cause I so want to stay longer in a place that’s ultra-dark and ultra-creepy,” Vette said with a full body shiver, “I mean seriously, I feel eyes on me everywhere but there’s nothing there.”

Sending a pulse of reassurance through the Force to Vette, the Twi’lek relaxed and gave her a grateful nod. They headed back down the passage, expansive cobwebs hanging from its ceilings. They exited into the large and high-ceilinged hall lit by dim greenish light, floor paved in grey stone with ornamental insets.

Towering statues of bowed slaves stood in front of the pillars interspaced evenly across the room, buttresses connecting them to the second floor. Furthest from where they stood at the northern end of the hall was a towering sculpture of a Sith pureblood its arms outstretched in reverence, gazing up in worship to an unseen god.

Aindri was right in it was slaves who had stolen the Ravager parts, finding them hidden in their clothing. She was near the pureblood sculpture collecting the final piece from the corpse of slave when a clear and calm voice cut through the sea of malevolent whispers.

**_“Come child. It’s okay to be afraid.”_ **

Vette was looking around, hands on her blasters as she kept watch, giving no indication, she had heard the voice. Straightening Aindri closed her eyes, reaching out with the Force to find the its source, hitting on a soothing presence with an inherent sense of light.

“A holocron?” She murmured surprised at the prism resting on the statue’s base.

Hesitating only for a second, she picked up holocron, feeling the power coursing through the object as she turned it around slowly in her hands. She had found another ancient holocron during one of her forays into one of the tombs on Korriban, but there was a difference in the way the power felt and flowed between that and the one she now held in her hand.

 ** _“Hello stranger,”_** A ghostly image of a Sith wearing red, black and charcoal grey coloured robes with large pauldrons jutting out past his arms and horn like appendages doing the same from his headdress, **_“My internal chronometer tells me it has been exactly 951 years since this holocron was made. Have the Sith truly lived in fear of me for so long?”_**

Aindri frowned, “Why would the Sith fear you?”

She didn’t recognise him, not from her studies at the academy of before. Locked in the Dark Temple, he may have been an enemy of the Emperor, but it wouldn’t explain why other Sith would be afraid.

**_“It is what Sith do. Their passions, their fear especially feed their power, a power that inspires yet more fear. Like so many before me, I challenged the Emperor and was buried in this temple. Fortunately, I made this holocron, to transmit my secrets and knowledge to whomever is bold enough to learn.”_ **

“I am willing to learn whatever you have to teach.” She replied after a brief pause.

Who wouldn’t be curious as to the kind of secrets which would inspire fear in fellow Sith?

**_“Have patience and everything will become clear. The way of the Sith lies in challenging the Force with powerful emotions. Fear chief of these. The Sith feed on palpable dread.”_ **

She remembered her first few months on Dromund Kass, scared of the constant crashing thunder and her self-loathing. She was training to be Sith, she shouldn’t be afraid but using fear against others, they created fear.

**_“But it’s a lie. Fear is a lie; passion is a lie. Fear gives temporary power and passion is easily manipulated. Real strength in the Force comes when one is no longer afraid. And one can purge fear when one stops grasping for power, after things, after life itself and allows the Force to guide him. There is only the Force.”_ **

* * *

I swung my vibrosword in a downwards slash, whirling round when the door to the training room slid open with a quiet hiss, reinforcing my blade with the Force to block my uncles strike. We disengaged, and I brought my blade around in a horizontal slash.

He danced to the side and I was thrown off-balance, ducking to roll under his next struck and springing to my feet. Turning sharply on my heel I once again meet his strike, gritting my teeth and digging my heels in to stop my self-sliding back.

I blinked at the rare serious expression on Ari’s normally smiling face.

“Ari?” I asked, uncertain and curious.

“It’s time for your final lesson Woyunoks.”

He pushed harder and I put distance between us, cocking my head to show I listened.

“You are strong Woyunoks, perhaps the strongest I have seen in decades but there is one thing you must learn. And that is conviction and resolve,” He nodded to my blade and I looked down at it briefly before returning my gaze to him, “When you dodge you can’t be afraid of getting killed, when you attack you can’t be afraid of killing. When you protect someone, you can’t be afraid they will die.”

Shooting forward in a blur, he swung his saber and I dodged the strike.

“When you dodge, ‘I won’t let them cut me’.”

I raised my blade to block as he moved his lightsaber to deliver a lethal slash at my chest.

“When you protect someone, ‘I won’t let them die’.”

Batting aside his saber I thrust my own blade at his throat.

“If you attack, ‘I will kill them’.”

My vibrosword passed his neck as leaned to the side and I jumped as he tried to trip me.

“Every time we have sparred have you noticed? The resolve to kill you in my blade?”

I stood there panting with the vibrosword held out in front of me in Niman’s high-guard stance. How could I not have noticed his intent to kill? It felt like a snake coiling around my body, restricting my movements. The first time I was paralysed. The second I ran away. The third time was when I first attempted to fight. He looked so proud of me then even though I lost within seconds.

Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply to relax my tense muscles. When I open them again to Ari’s still serious face I darted forward, dodging my uncles’ strike which whistled over my head. It was close enough that I could feel his lightsabers heat on my scalp.

“More than anger, more than hate.”

I blocked his strike and pushed his blade away.

“More than fear, your resolve, your conviction and your passion in your beliefs are the true key to winning any battle.”

Ari’s lightsaber clattered to the floor metres away, my blade hovering against his throat.

“Abandon your fear. Face forward and advance. Don’t give an inch. Retreat and you will age. Be afraid and you will die,” Ari smiled, a true genuine smile, not the one only those closest to him knew was fake, “After this Woyunks I have nothing left to teach you.”

* * *

It was the first time Aindri ever beaten her uncle in a spar and she carved his final lesson into her heart. If she remembered nothing else, she would always remember those words, her resolve, her conviction and her passion.

 ** _“Sith philosophy claims to break its followers’ chains, but instead traps them in their own fear,”_** Spoke the Sith drawing back her wandering mind from her memories, **_“What I learned only lives on through this device. Yet I am one with the Force, eternal and at peace. Take this holocron and my teachings. You will find power here but a different power, one of light not darkness.”_**

“Hey… hey!” Blinking, the Sith’s phantom visage disappeared and Aindri turned her head towards Vette who breathed a sigh of relief, worry draining from her features, “There you are. You were completely spacing out. I was starting to get worried.”

“My apologies, Vette.”

The Twi’lek blinked before grinning, “Oh its fine, just please don’t do it again,” Cocking her head at the holocron resting in her palm “So what did ya find? Is it something Sithy? I bet it’s something Sithy.”

“Something interesting.” She replied not elaborating further as she slipped into her robes.

She would examine it in detail later.

“Fine,” Vette huffed, “I guess if it’s something Sithy I probably wouldn’t want to know anyway. So, we heading back to the creepy chamber with the floating stone?”

Backtracking to the chamber and entering the passageway, the atmosphere shifted, both Sith and Twi’lek feeling uneasy. They found out why when nearing the threshold of the chamber which had stored the Ravager, a tall and stocky slave flanked by two others.

His voice was filled with power and from their time spent in the temple she recognised the signs of possession, “It was foolish of you to return here.”

“Why is it every time I’m out with you,” Vette began her quip, drawing blasters in preparation for the fight on their hands, “We’re fighting for our lives?”

“Those pieces you took from my minions belong to me!” The slave growled, “They will enable me to exact my revenge on Lord Pharshol. I am Lord Vacuus. The conqueror of Begeren. The killer of Garatak the Singed. Return what you have stolen or burn!”

Aindri arched a brow and unclipped her lightsabers from her belt, crimson blade flaring to life, splashing her mask with an ominous light, “I choose burn.”

She swung her sabers up, slashing the possessed slave across the chest, Vette taking down his followers with two quick shots to the temple. The Sith spirit drawing on the Force to reduce her strikes power, but it wasn’t enough, and her blow was fatal.

An enraged scream rent the air and she ducked, shoving Vette’s head down as a black gaseous substance rushed them, disappearing down the passageway. The darkness and unease lessened as the spirit’s presence faded, even the murmuring voices quietened.

Vette breathed a sigh of relief and throwing a glancing at her companion. She motioned towards the archway and the Twi’lek nodded, taking up a position facing the passage with her blasters raised. No longer in danger of being ambushed from behind, she approached the stone chest and withdrew the Ravager components.

Replacing the lid, she spread out the pieces taking a moment to inspect them for damage before beginning to repair the dismantled relic. Using the Force to judge what fitted where, she brought the Ravager to completion piece by piece with nimble fingers.

Clicking the final piece into place there was a feeling of completion in the Force as she weighed the Ravager in her hand, shivering lightly at the pure Dark Side energy coursing through the object. She stored the relic in an inner pocket of her cloak and walked up to Vette who stowed her blasters.

“All done?” Vette asked, sighing in relief at Aindri’s nod, “Well in that case can we get going? I know I’ve said it but, but this place gives me the creeps. I’ve had enough of angry Sithy ghosts and possession to last me a lifetime.”

Aindri inwardly agreed, the voices grating on her psyche were getting irritating and upped her pace walking back through the Temple, back to their speeders and back to the City.

* * *

The first thing Vette noticed was the complete and utter resounding silence. Every time she had been there, thankfully not often as Aindri normally let her stay at the apartment where the city became a distant memory, there was screaming. She really didn’t believe it when the Sith told her Baras had been working the same guy over all that time.

How the republic agent was still alive was anyone’s guess.

Even though she knew she’d likely regret it and the Sith, bless her heart, regarded her for a few seconds before nodding and continuing forward. She followed, only slightly hesitant into the room, keeping her eyes pinned on her employers back and away from the walls, ceiling and floor.

Baras had sensed his apprentice the moment she’d entered the Citadel, the city already abuzz with news of her trip to the temple. Every task or mission, she was surpassing his expectations and she’d been doing so since the Academy.

When he’d first arrived on Korriban, he thought Vemrin would have been perfectly acceptable as his new apprentice. But with the completion of two of her trials and the praise she received from other overseers he lost his lustre. She had both raw power her interactions with Vemrin showed a level headiness rare in a Sith.

Taking her in, mind intact and Ravager in hand he knew she was the right choice, “When I sent you into the Dark Temple, I thought it might be the last time I saw you, Apprentice.” He took the device from her, turning it over in his palm then face the agent, “There’s no time to spare, the prisoner grows weaker by the minute. Stand back and bear witness.”

“You’re wasting … your time,” The agent spat when Baras reached out and placed the Ravager on his head, its claws digging into his flesh to clamp down on his skull, “I … will … not … ahh!”

Vette closed her eyes and turned away her head as the agent shouted and writhed in pain, the device they retrieved from the Temple and his eyes glowing an ominous red.

“Yes. The Ravager has seized his mind. Excellent! In his condition we don’t have long before the ordeal liquefies all brain matter.” Baras grinned, satisfaction at finally breaking the agent coursing through his veins, “I endured his defiance for so long. His torment is a sight for angered eyes.”

Vette fought down her desire to be sick, at the pleasure in his voice and glanced at Aindri, the Sith’s expression hidden by her mask and her body language indecipherable. She hated that about the mask, unable to tell her thoughts and feelings when she was wearing it, though the Twi’lek supposed it was the point.

She was getting better at reading her body language but times like that it was difficult. But it did give her some peace of mind such times were usually when the Sith was unhappy.

“Republic worm, you have the information I desire. Tell me everything.”

“I am … Republic … Information Service … on special assignment to verify … possible Imperial spy … on Nar Shaddaa.” Aindri gave Vette a glance before returning her gaze to the agent, still pushing out his words as fought the Ravagers influence, “Commissioned by… Jedi Council … acting on suspicions provided by … Master Nomen Karr….”

Baras growled, the Force flaring around him in irritation, “Nomen Karr, that’s a name I grow tired of hearing.”

“An enemy?” Aindri asked curiously.

From the cold fury in her the Darths’ voice there was history between the two.

“My oldest and most hated enemy and an old wound that continues to fester,” He snarled, turning his back on the agent, “Nomen Karr is a Jedi Master who infiltrated the Sith. I rooted him out, then he nearly destroyed me and fled. He’s dedicated himself to proving that the Sith have spites imbedded within Republic and Jedi ranks. I’ve thwarted him at every turn. But he is tenacious.”

Rounding on the Republic agent, Baras had to restrain the urge to lash out further with the Force and his temper, the man would not survive it. He had limited time but still needed information, primarily how Karr knew.

“How did Nomen Karr come to suspect my spy on Nar Shaddaa?” Baras growled low, pacing closer to the interrogation table, “Tell me, Republic wretch – what alerted him?”

“Master Nomen Karr has … a new … Padawan.”

Baras narrowed his eyes; why would a mere Padawan lead to Karr to discover his spy.

“She seems to… know any being’s… true nature. She senses… hidden darkness… and… untapped purity. When Master Nomen Karr brought her to Nar Shaddaa… the Padawan sensed… darkness in your spy… simply by… seeing him. Karr… believes his Padawan’s… ability… is fool proof… but the Jedi Council is… sceptical. I was… to provide the proof… but… I wasn’t… able… to report my findings…”

“Astonishing,” He mused, his mind whirring as he considered the implications of the existence of such a power, “I’ve never heard of the Force granting such a gift.”

Aindri’s own brow furrowed.

She knew there were cases of individuals who expanded the frontier of what Force users could achieve and it seemed this mysterious Padawan was one such individual. While it would be beneficial to attempt to turn such a person, and subsequently their power, to their own side they were also dangerous to them if left unchecked.

“This is a serious threat.”

“Yes, my apprentice. It is the doom I felt – the disruption in the Force,” Baras agreed, “If this young Padawan can see through deception, a disguise, with such little effort, she threatens everything I have worked for. Such a threat must not wander the galaxy unchecked.” He growled at the agent, “Who is this Padawan, you Republic pest? Tell me everything you know about her.”

“She was found … on Alderaan …! Her power … first emerged … training on … Tatooine. And … Jedi sent another … agent … to investigate someone she suspected on Balmorra.”

“He’s fading,” Baras cursed, absently noting the black substance leaking from his prisoners’ nose and mouth, the agent was fading and faster than he anticipated, “Is she human or one of the Jedi’s cursed aliens? Where can I find her? What is her name?”

“I … have … nothing … no … thing … mo … mo!”

Vette hid a wince as the republic agent screamed in pain, his whole body spasming violently before finally falling still. The red glow faded, and he looked at the room with glassy eyes, all life extinguished.

“The Ravager has emptied his mind. That is all we have to go on, a few random places within the greater galaxy where Nomen Karr and his Padawan have been.” Baras’s voice built as he spoke, metal groaning and restraints snapping, “Karr is a relentless crusader, and this Padawan and her unprecedented power threaten everything I have achieved.”

The bloodied corpse hit the stained floor with a wet thud no longer held by the red bands of light restraining it against the crumpling interrogation table. Aindri waited for Baras to release most of his rage before she spoke, cutting through the red fog.

“It is a start master,” Said Aindri, “We have leads to follow.”

Baras breathed deeply, “You are correct, Apprentice.”

Reigning in his temper and striding for his office, Apprentice and following obediently behind him and her Twi’lek behind her. She waited before his desk as he sunk into his seat and steepled fingers.

“And this is a task with which I trust no other. I have calls to make, people to inform. You will rest and recuperate then return here tomorrow morning,” Said Baras, smiling a cold smile with the Force coiling around him menacing and deadly, “It is than I will unleash you upon the galaxy.

Aindri sketched a short bow and swept from the room, leaving her master sitting and plotting in shadow. Vette walked as fast as she could without running to keep up and leave the room as fast as possible.

* * *

Vette decided she would miss the Sith’s apartment. It was quiet there, far above the walkways and skylanes of Kass City, roaring engines and chattering pedestrians replaced by the regular soothing rhythm of rain. An occasional dull echo of thunder relieved the monotony before fading away into the ever-present blanket of dark bluish clouds.

“Your duties are likely to take you to the far reaches of the galaxy.” Baras had apparently said when Aindri reported to him that morning, “And I will need to deploy you at will. You shall have a starship of you.” He then paused and added offhanded praise, “You’ve earned it. Go to my personal hanger in the spaceport and claim it.”

So Aindri returned with the news and they began packing, Vette doing so in record time and standing in the foyer, leaning her head back against the wall waiting for the Sith. She wondered what kind of ship Baras had given them, seriously hoping it was better than the shuttles they’d been on thus far but wasn’t holding her breath.

“I will likely be away from Dromund Kass for some time,” Said Aindri, entering the room with Seban and giving him a barely there smile, “Look after the apartment until I return.”

“Of course, young mistress,” He bowed, giving her his own warm smile as he straightened, having known her for years he understood what went unspoken, “Be safe and good hunting,” He lowered his voice to a whisper, “May the Force be with you.”

Aindri smiled, brief but genuine, before nodding and fixing her mask onto her face and drew up her hood to hide crimson hair before picking up her bag as she strode to the turbolift. Vette pushed herself off the wall, her own bag thrown over her shoulder, and entered the lift behind her.

“So, we’re finally getting off this rock huh?”

“Do not refer to Dromund Kass as a rock, Vette,” Aindri said sharply, there were those who wouldn’t hesitate to punish Vette if she insulted the Empire’s heart, “It is my home and the Empire’s capital.”

“All right, all right.” Filters, Vette forgot, “Soooo, we’re tracking a Jedi. You excited?”

Aindri cocked her head at her companion as they exited the elevator crossing the garage to their speeder bikes. Vette has squealed in joy and all but tackled her when she told the Twi’lek the Aratech she’d used to get to the Dark Temple was hers.

“Why would I be excited?” She asked confused.

Destroy all Jedi,” She lowered her shaking fist to scratch the dip between her lekku and scalp sheepishly as the Aratech’s engines cycled to life, “Know what I mean?”

“We have Baras’s network to secure.” Aindri reminded Vette as they peeled out of the housing tower’s garage and slipped into the late morning traffic, “Focus on the task at hand Vette,” She told the Twi’lek when they hit the jungle paths, “We have plenty of time to deal with the Jedi.” Even as she said this, a smile worked its way on her face, “But yes I’m excited. It will be quite a challenge.”

One which she would relish.

It was only an hour of racing through thick trees before they thinned, opening to the wide area of cleared and somewhat tame land on which the seemingly single-floored space port sat. She knew there were further levels below the surface, leading to hangers imbedded in the cliffs.

Aindri shook of her head as Vette jumped off her speeder and bounded ahead of her. Dismounting at a more sedated pace, she flagged down a worker to secure their speeders and take them down to Baras’s hanger and load them onto the ship.

Entering, she only took a few steps when she heard Vette’s voice. She arched a brow upon observing the crowd, several wearing Mandalorian or non-imperial issue heavy armour. It was when one such individual moved from her line of sight, she saw Vette being accosted by a spaceport security officer, flanked by two other agents.

“Look pal,” Said Vette glancing at her as she silently approached, trying to keep a smile from her face, “I’m just warning you, but you may want to seriously want to let me go.”

The officer snarled at him, “I’ll do no such thing alien scum. I’ve had three ships stolen this year by the Mandalorians and their unwashed cohorts. I’m not having any more starships getting stolen on my watch!”

Vette really did smirk then, eyes meeting Aindri’s over his shoulder, “Well your funeral.”

Realising Vette wasn’t looking at him and the security officer whipped around, blinking at her appearance before paling once he saw the twin lightsabers attached to her belt.

“Ah… apolo… apologies my Lord,” He stuttered, “I didn’t know the Twi’lek was with you.”

Ignoring the dig about her species, Vette watched grinning as the security officer fidgeted under her Sith’s, and yes, she started thinking of the Sith as hers, silent scrutiny. It only took a second for Aindri to decide he was below her notice and he had to jump out of the way as she strode past.

“Vette.”

“Coming, my Lord.” She called cheerily.

Giving the officer a small wave, Vette skipped cheerfully after her and left him fuming. A dark blonde and tanned mandalorian with a tattoo by his right eye approaching him with a Neimodian hot to his heels.

* * *

Vette squealed with delight, ignoring the Sith’s chuckle as she ran forwards to lean across the room’s computer console. She whistled at the sight of the shiny new starship awaiting them in the hanger.

“Wow look at that. We’re going in style now…”

It was definitely much better than a shuttle, the Twi’lek grinned.

Aindri agreed it was a magnificent vessel, the design sleek, angular and streamlined forgoing the roundness of most Republic vessels. Her eyes roamed over a stunning black durasteel finish and chrome detailing, boarding ramp folded down and leading to the main hatch.

It was practically begging Aindri and Vette to enter, rev up promisingly fast engines and shoot out into open space to a whole galaxy at their fingertips, waiting to be explored.

She pinned it as an Imperial Interceptor, Fury-class, described by Darth Mekhis as the hammer which would shatter the ribcage of the Republic. What she knew of its’ schematics certainly lived up to such a statement, the advanced hyperdrive and state-of-the-art sublight engines made the starship one of the most versatile in the Imperial Fleet.

The whole thing was a product of centuries of evolving design.

Down below, hanger workers conducted final checks on the ship but there was another presence, standing in the shadows watching and waiting. Like a Shryack wheeling over Korribanian sands in search of carrion. It wasn’t a hanger worker or security like before, no it was more… oppressive.

“I’m going to check it out!” Called Vette, racing downstairs leading onto the hanger floor.

It was only once she was out of sight Aindri spoke, “You are poor at concealing yourself.”

There was a soft thudding of boots and she turned to meet the Sith who left the shadows.

“Nice ship,” He chuckled in a way meant to be menacing and send fear through her; as it was, she stood relaxed but ready, “A reward from your cowardly master for killing Lord Grathan’s son?”

“Yes, and?” Aindri queried, hands held loosely by her side but near her lightsabers.

He was smiling and she could feel his bloodlust, but it didn’t matter he wasn’t one to fear.

“That’s refreshing.” The Sith chuckled, “I won’t have to beat a confession out of you before I take your life. A true Sith thanks his foe for providing an outlet for his rage. My master wanted me to thank you before I killed you.”

“It was my pleasure.” Aindri replied calmly.

“You have guts, I’ll give you that,” The Sith smirked, “I’m Lord Grathan’s top assassin, he sends me to eliminate those he wants to suffer most. I’m here to kill you, friend.” His smirk widened, “For murdering the son of my master.”

“I’m honoured.” She deadpanned, igniting her lightsabers and bring them up in a stance.

“As you should be,” He said and leapt at her in a poor imitation of a Force enhanced jump.

Really, she’d seen better in the academy.

He was the kind who would have survived Korriban through schemes and backstabbing not direct confrontations. A single glance told her the assassin wasn’t used to confronting his targets in straight forward, toe-to-toe fights. It proved to be his undoing.

She dodged the strike to her shoulder, allow her right saber to grind against his and swung up her left and cutting off his head. Deactivating her lightsaber, she tilted her head in consideration as she regarded the assassins’ corpse before shaking her head.

Some Sith took trophies from fallen enemies, but she personally didn’t see the point in it.

“There you are!” Vette exclaimed happily running up and grabbing her hand as she descended the last step, “What kept you? This ship is absolutely gorgeous!”

Vette’s excitement radiated through the Force, looking like a child running downstairs to find presents on Life Day. Feeling indulgent, Aindri allowed herself to be obediently dragged up the boarding ramp and into the ship’s hull.

She blinked, her eyes taking a moment to adjust from the switch between the darker interior of the entryway and glaring hanger lights. Boots clicked on polished metal decking as they entered the ship’s cargo hold, speeders stored to the right, supply crates stacked atop each other to the left.

Vette bounded ahead of her, wrinkling her nose when she peered into the crate, “Okay I just putting it out there, but I am not, I repeat not eating from rations every night.” She waved a packet of rations, “I’ve yet to find one of these that doesn’t taste like carbonite.”

“I am sure we can do something,” Aindri replied smoothly, moving away from the escape pods to the stairs leading to the upper decks, “Let us explore the rest of the vessel.”

Vette smirked, “Way ahead of you.”

They entered a corridor, floor lights casting a red glow across the walls and ceiling and leading off it where various doors to other parts of the ship. From what she had seen outside of the vessel immediately ahead of them would lead to the bridge. Turning she could see another exactly opposite, behind which would be the Fury’s airlock.

“Err, my Lord?” Vette called from the right-hand door, “Did you order a droid?”

Brow furrowed, Aindri found Vette in what must be a conference room. Chains surrounding a long table which dominated most of the room. They faced a large holoterminal next to which was a door leading off to another area.

Vette was standing at in the back corner, examining a nervously shifting droid curiously.

“Oh! Ah, I mean … greetings!” The unfamiliar mechanical voice grated on her ears, as the droid gave sudden a low bow, “Welcome aboard this Fury-class Imperial Interceptor, a versatile craft combining a starfighter’s manoeuvrability with armament to rival larger military vessels. I am 2V-R8, factotum droid for this vessel. You must be my new master. Gentle, kind new master …”

“What is your aboard my ship?” Aindri interjected before it went on a sycophantic spiel.

Arrate looked thrilled to be even asked, “I am programmed for a wide array of tasks, including but not limited to meal preparation, ship maintenance, janitorial duty and etiquette.”

“Well your enthusiastic one ain’t you,” Vette said sounding amused as she eyed the droid speculatively, “Your joints don’t look that strong though. Can you do any fighting at all?”

“I regret I am unable to off you combat support.”

They glanced at each other, to them, Arrate didn’t sound too regretful.

“Frankly my chassis couldn’t withstand the stress. However, there are many other duties I can perform should they be beneath your superior status. Please don’t deactivate me!”

She moved to pinch the bridge of her nose only to remember she couldn’t because of her mask and let her hand dropped back. There was a reason she preferred having organic servants, Seban, Shee and Mira could give even a Sith acolyte a run for their money.

Mainly, she hated protocol droids even on the best of days and Arrate seemed to be to out talk even Vette. She wondered whether she could rip out its voice box or flush it out the airlock. But then, Baras would likely be displeased if she did and at least he could carry out basic functions while on board the ship.

“I have no current desire to deactivate you,” She replied dismissively.

“Thank the maker!” Arrate rejoiced, and she had no doubt the droid would have sighed in relief if it could, “Before I forget Master, the ship is currently without a name designation and the marker plate is available for modification at your convenience.”

As soon as Arrate said the words ‘marker plate’ Aindri could see Vette’s eyes light up and she was soon bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her feelings of excitement positively thrummed through the Force.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Vette cheered, “I’ve always wanted to name a ship.”

“Any and all suggestion are going through me first.” Aindri immediately interjected.

She could only think of the kind of names Vette could and would come up with.

“Aww. Come on my Lord, please!” Vette whined, adopting her best puppy-dog look, “Please can I name it. Pretty please with a cherry on top.”

“Vette.”

The other pouted at the warning note in the Sith’s voice, “Fine. But I am going to find the crew bunks, pick one and then I am going to sufficiently trash it.” Vette headed off to explore the rest of the ship calling out, “Don’t wait up!”

“Is there anything I can do for you Master?” Arrate asked politely.

“Prepare the engines for take-off and hyperspace.” Aindri ordered knowing that as Baras would likely contact them once they were offworld and she was about to duck back into the hallway for the bridge when another thought came to mind, “And a manifest of all the supplies in the cargo hold.”

She wanted to know what they did and did not have so Aindri knew what to request when it came to consumables. Like Vette she didn’t plan to eat insipid standard military rations.

Located in the forward centre of the Fury, was the bridge, her favourite part the viewport which would soon be looking out on the stars. Flanking each side were jutting out sections of the prow, black and grey metal hiding the forward guns. Displays blinked as engines roared, hanger crew sprinting away as a hiss and clunk resounded throughout the ship.

Boarding ramp clicking into place and the hatch sealing, the ship lifted a few metres off the deck followed by the tell-tale thunk of landing gear being stowed. Aindri slid into the pilots’ chair and took the controls, guiding the ship gently out of the hanger and into Kaas’s upper atmosphere before breaking into Imperial Space.

“Well, I didn’t find the crew quarters,” Said Vette, throwing herself onto the helmsmen chair, “But I did find one of the engine rooms and another cargo area,” She tilted her head, “And what looks like a training room, not sure.”

Aindri hummed, sitting back in the pilot’s chair with a smile tugging at her lips as the view through the viewport was filled with stars. Yes, this was definitely her favourite part of the ship, the sight of all open space laid out before her, ready to be explored.

“The first time I went into space was with Nok’s crew.” Vette broke the descended silence, smiling at the scenery in nostalgia, “Still slaving for Three Eyes when he crossed Nok, or maybe he just had something Nok wanted,” She shrugged, “Never did ask why.”

“Did anyone from the gang survive the encounter?” Aindri asked.

Nok Drayen didn’t become infamous by being merciful to those who opposed him.

“You mean anyone that wasn’t owned as property?” Vette asked wryly, “No, they did not. I’m still not sure how Nok got his speeders into the camp. One minute they weren’t there, then they were. He….” She paused, trying to find the right words, “He was ruthless but not a thug, you know? Sort of a pirate prince. Freed all the slaves and told them they could join up or go their own way.”

“You took the opportunity.”

Vette laughed, “Well I wasn’t about to wander off on whatever waste of a planet we were on. I was the smallest of the crew and mining had taught me to fit in tight places. Nok’s crew showed me how to steal. For a long time, I didn’t feel bad about stealing. So much had been taken from me….”

“The act of taking gave you back control over your life,” Aindri concluded from the others story, “It was important to you.”

“Yeah, well it was a long time ago,” Vette shrugged, nodding at the viewport, “Never get tired of the view though. Spent near every chance I got sitting near a viewport so I could watch the stars.”

“Yeah, well it was a long time ago,” Vette shrugged, nodding at the viewport, “Never get tired of the view though. Spent near every chance I got sitting near a viewport so I could watch the stars.”

A low ping came from the computer, alerting them to an call from the holoterminal.

“Probably Darth Potbelly.” Chimed Vette causing Aindri to arch a brow as she rose.

“Darth Potbelly?”

“Well, you know his belly is huge.” Vette explained.

“Baras could just as easily Force Choke you through a call.” She warned, leaving the room.

“Yeah well as long as I don’t do it when he calls, I should be fine then.” Vette called back.

Shaking her head, Aindri entered the conference room and approached the terminal, fingers gliding over the control panel. Accepting the call, Baras’s image flickered to life, his ghostly blue figure illuminating the wall behind him.

“(Apprentice, I trust you find your starship satisfactory.)”

She gave a short bow of gratitude, “It is an outstanding vessel.”

“(I hope that it serves you well. Now there is much to be done, my interests must be protected, and my enemies destroyed. Nomen Karr’s efforts to expose my spies and proven his Padawan’s power to the Jedi Council must meet with systemic failure. You will exhaust yourself in this charge.)”

“You want your network secured first.”

“(Correct.)” Baras affirmed, clasping his hands behind his back, “(We know my spy on Nar Shaddaa was being surveilled and the Jedi have sent someone to investigate my spy on Balmorra. They must be silenced before you hunt the Padawan down.)”

“Why not simply recall them?”

“(Their disappearance would look suspicious and serve to confirm the Padawan’s accusations. They must die),” She bowed her head in acquiescence, losing such valuable operatives was a shame but she understood the need, “(My contacts on Balmorra and Nar Shaddaa will detail what must be done. Your tasks are paramount apprentice. Bring cruelty. Bring rage. Bring death.)”

Vette was leaning against the doorframe as Aindri bowed and Baras’s cerulean image disappeared in a flicker of static, “So, Balmorra or Nar Shaddaa, where to first on our journey of galactic conquest?”

“Balmorra,” Aindri decided after thinking, heading back to the bridge, “The agent there is in the most danger of being discovered. Until then make yourself comfortable.”

It would be a couple of days before they arrived in the Nevoota system and she planned to make her own self comfortable in their new home away from home. Though, if there was a Dejarik table on board, she would have to place limits on bets.

Vette was unsurprisingly very adept at the game, clearing out both Seban and Mira. While it would nice to have someone new to play against, the Twi’lek liked gambling and a lucky streak a mile wide. Aindri would prefer to keep her cash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks the end of the Sith Beginnings Arc which covers the Sith Warrior prologue. Next is Securing the Spy Network which covers one half of chapter one. Balmorra and Nar Shaddaa here we come

**Author's Note:**

> 'Ari = 'Lord'
> 
> This story is separated into various arcs, the first ten are a part of the Becoming an Apprentice and I'll type at the end whenever a new arc is about to start. Also as a forewarning, I'm not going to have an update schedule so chapters will come whenever I've finished them.


End file.
